Anger Management
by Haiti2013
Summary: Arthur is pissed off! His guidance counselor just recommended he take anger management classes - something he clearly didn't need! He decides that he's going to try to make the best of this new situation and maybe even learn something but how can he concentrate when he catches the attention of a blue eyed Adonis, who seems to have only one thing on his mind?
1. I don't need an Anger Management class!

**Disclaimer: Unfortunately, I do not own Hetalia. Not even a little bit :(**

* * *

"WHAT DID YOU SAY?!"

"I said that you are going to be part of this new "anger management" program we have going on at this school," said the Guidance Counselor quietly. "Now can you please lower your voice?" Arthur gave her an annoyed sigh.

"Why do I need anger management?" he asked, trying to keep himself calm. The Counselor eyed him nervously.

"Well…" she said slowly. "If you haven't noticed, you tend to get upset rather easily."

"I do not!" How dare she claim that he was easily upset!? It made him angry just thinking about it.

"Calm down Arthur, it is not necessarily a bad thing."

"Well that's rubbish isn't it? If it wasn't a bad thing then why the bloody hell am I so angry about it!?" His counselor looked at him, exasperated. There was just no getting through to this kid.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

"So the bitch says I have to go to these classes twice a week after school, for two fucking hours! Can you believe it? I start today," Arthur exclaimed. Alfred looked at him a smiled.

"I told you. You really have to learn to control that temper of yours," he laughed as he took a bite of his burger.

"Are you ever not eating?" his friend asked.

"Hey, don't hate. These things are delicious."

"Apparently, you got four." Arthur Kirkland sat there watching his best friend Alfred plow through all four burgers, his fries and two milkshakes. He pushed his scones and tea to the side, too disgusted to resume eating. "My god, where does it all go?" he asked, scanning over his friend's slim figure.

"I don't know," Alfred smiled. "But I'm going to get some more." He turned around and headed back into the lunch line.

"You Americans are such pigs!" Arthur yelled at him.

"That's only because our food actually tastes good!" he yelled back. Arthur sighed and slouched back into his chair. He couldn't believe this was happening. He had just come to this school, not by his own accord of course, yet he was really starting to like it. So far he only had one real friend, Alfred Jones, but he was sure after a few more weeks he could end up being quite popular. Although, this anger management thing would surely put him in the loser class of the school for the rest of his days here, he had to think of some way to get out of it. The sound of a girl's voice pulled him out of his thoughts.

"My apologies, what did you say?" he asked, looking at the cute girl in front of him. She wore her hair in two pigtails that really complemented the school girl outfit she had on. She also had a stuffed polar bear that she clutched tightly to her chest.

"I asked if you had seen Alfred," she repeated. Her voice was so quiet, barely over a whisper. _She is really pretty,_ he thought. _That Alfred is a lucky Yankee bastard._

"Uh yea," he said as he scanned the cafeteria. "He's right over…well, here he comes." He pointed to a boy carrying a large tray with well over five burgers and an absurd amount of fries. Michelle smiled at the sight of him.

"Well I guess I'll just sit there." When Alfred reached the table, he put down his tray and grabbed a hand full of fries.

"Do you guys want any?" he asked, thrusting his hand in their faces. Arthur politely declined, while Michelle took one and nibbled it. Alfred shrugged and devoured the rest as he sat down. "Hey Michelle," he began, shifting his attention to the girl to his right. "What's up?"

"I wanted to see you," she said brightly. "And **he**'s not happy." Alfred nodded as he munched on a burger. He covered his mouth while he spoke.

"I get you. You can chill with us today if you want." Arthur raised an eyebrow, _since when did Alfred cover his mouth? He must really like this girl._

"Who's mad?" he wondered out loud. Michelle opened her mouth to respond and then shook her head as she changed her mind.

"Just my brother, he's mad because the school assigned him to take some anger management classes and he's going to have to miss soccer practice."

"Ha, Artie has to take those classes to." Arthur scowled at him.

"Don't fucking call me Artie, that isn't my name! I have told you this before, YOU BLOODY WANKER!" Michelle looked at him with wide eyes and he tried to avoid her gaze. "I mean, stop it Alfred."

"Yea," she said hesitantly. "It probably didn't help his case that he called the guidance counselor _une salope_ when she said he couldn't get out of it."

"What does _salope_ mean?" asked Alfred. Michelle blushed and whispered the answer in his ear.

"Arthur called her that too," he laughed.

"You know I have never met your brother, Michelle. What is he like?" She turned to look at him and hugged her bear closer.

"Oh, he's great. Super sweet, funny and a real romantic, he really is the best big brother ever." _Wow, she's really pushing this guy, _Arthur thought._ There must be something seriously wrong with him; well, he does sound French…_

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX 

Later that day, Arthur entered his first anger management class. It was only a few minutes after school had ended, he had made sure to make it there early to show the professor that he really wasn't a bad kid, _maybe I can get out early for good behavior._ He sat near the front of the room and took out a brand new notebook with a pen and waited for class to start, however so far he was the only one here and that included the teacher. A couple minutes later the teacher walked in – he was a handsome male in his early thirties. He looked so self confident that light seemed drawn to him. England couldn't help but notice how beautiful he was as he wrote Mr. Vargas on the board. When he turned around he noticed Arthur and flashed him a perfect smile. He shyly smiled back.

"_Ciao_, welcome to my anger management class. What is your name?"

"Uh, my name is-"

"Bullshit! I can't believe we are missing futbol for this!" yelled a boy as he entered the room. He had dark brown hair, lightly tanned skin and was wearing a soccer uniform.

"Oh come on, _mi angelito. _At least we are still together," reasoned a Spanish boy who walked in after him, who also happened to be wearing a soccer uniform. _There seem to be a lot of them in here,_ noticed Arthur. They walked past him and took their seats in the back.

"I would advise you to keep your voice down, Lovino," suggested Mr. Vagas.

"Screw you uncle! You're the reason I'm in this fucking place."

"Because you need it! Why can't you be more like your brother? _lui è un piccolo angelo_." Lovino scowled at him and turned his attention to his friend. The class began to fill up now so Mr. Vagas tried to gain order and start the class.

"Is everyone here?" The class door slammed open and a blond teenage boy walked in. But he wasn't any boy, this kid was a god. His eyes were so blue that Arthur felt like he was actually staring into the ocean and his hair had a shine to it that made diamonds jealous. His body looked like it had been sculpted by Michelangelo. _How can someone look that amazing wearing a soccer uniform? More importantly, how can anyone concentrate on a game with him on the field? _Arthur wondered. "Ah Francis, how nice of you to join us?"

"Oh, _je suis vraiment désolé professeur_, I was talking to my guidance counselor."

"Couldn't get out of it, huh? Please take a seat." Francis began to walk towards his friends in the back when he noticed a new kid in the front. A dirty blond with the most magnificent sea green eyes that happened to be directed at him, he changed his mind and decided to sit in front. He leaned over to the new boy.

"_Mon cher_, you do know that it is not polite to stare," he winked. "But if it is any consolation, I really do not mind." Arthur blushed a deep tomato red.

"I wasn't staring." Francis laid back in his chair and looked over the skinny English boy. Arthur could feel the other boy's eyes on him, examining him, noticing every little imperfection.

"Whatever you say, _chouchou_," he laughed. Arthur began to feel a little irritated.

"Could you please speak English? It is really annoying when you guys switch languages like that."

"Really?" he asked. Then, Francis leaned over really close to him like he wanted to whisper something in his ear. Arthur played along. "Because most people find it _sexy_." Arthur suppressed a small sigh from escaping his lips as he felt Francis' warm breath on his skin.

"Well, I obviously don't," said Arthur. Francis raised an eyebrow at him.

"Yes," he smiled. "Obviously."


	2. Soccer game anyone?

Arthur sat in the courtyard quietly debating whether he should start reading _A Tale of Two Cities_ while drinking a magnificent cup of chamomile tea. _I know we aren't going to have to read the book for a couple weeks in English class, but I can't help myself; Charles Dickens is amazing. He was just such a great writer, so funny and eloquent. Insightful too, for example his perspective on the social classes in France before the revolution was so profound. One must wonder if he had actually been there, visited the city, mingled among the people. I wonder if he actually met one of them, talked to them, admire their blond hair and unbelievably blue eyes, if he ever commented on their perfectly sculpted body or wonder what it would feel like for him to gently stroke his face as he moved in slowly as if to kiss, woah! Stop it! Clean thoughts – ponies, barbeques, tap dancing, calculus, spamano, anything! Just get that French twit out of your head. He would be so smug if he knew he got into your head, I can see it already. Him with his arms crossed across his muscular chest, while his beautiful lips curled up into a smile- No! I will not give him the satisfaction._

"What's up, ya crazy Brit?" asked Alfred as he slid into a chair across from him.

"I don't even like him! How dare you imply that?" he asked hotly, glaring up at his friend. Alfred paused in a moment of confusion and then shook his head.

"No, I meant how your day was?"

"Well why didn't you just bloody say so?!"

"I kind of thought I did…so how was it?"

"Was what?"

"Never mind," sighed Alfred. "Do you have Anger Management today?"

"It is Thursday, but there's a bloody football game or something so it was cancelled."

"A football game? Really? I didn't know there was a team, that's awesome!"

"No, you retarded git. I meant soccer, not your frivolous barbarian screaming match your people call a sport."

"Dude, why are your panties in a wad?" Arthur slammed his hands on the table.

"Are you insinuating that I wear ladies underwear?!" he screamed a bit loudly.

"Oh my God dude, chill. Why are you acting like this?"

"Like what?"

"Seriously?" Alfred looked at him incredulously. "Do you really not notice this mess?" he said, gesturing at Arthur's entire body.

"Ok," agreed Arthur. "Maybe I'm a bit on edge today."

"Maybe?" laughed Alfred.

"Ok, a lot. But it has nothing to do with him, I swear."

"_Him_ who?"

"Who's _he_?" Arthur asked innocently.

"I don't know, you're the one who brought it up."

"I most certainly did not."

"But..."

"Why, hello Michelle!"

"Where?" asked Alfred as he looked behind him and Arthur made a break for it. _Anything to get out of that stupid conversation, _he thought as he snuck away.

Arthur did actually run into Michelle right outside the courtyard. She invited him to go watch the soccer game being played on the school's soccer field.

"You want me to go with you?" he asked unconvinced.

"Sure," she answered shyly. "I was going to ask Alfred too but my brother only gave me one ticket and Alfred thinks it is a stupid game, something about playing for two hours just for the game to end one to zero." Arthur laughed, that sounded like something his friend would complain about.

"Well, I'd love to go. I quite enjoy football." Michelle smiled.

"I thought you'd might." The soccer field wasn't too far from the courtyard so they were able to get there pretty quickly, but the game was already half over. Michelle frowned. "We should have gotten here earlier."

"Don't worry, love." Arthur patted her hand. "The second half is the most interesting part."

"No, it's not that. I don't see Francis, I hope he isn't injured."

"I see him." Arthur stated, causing Michelle to sit up.

"Really? Where?"

"Right there, the prick whose tongue is getting really familiar with that cheerleader's mouth." Michelle quickly looked away.

"I'm sorry about that. Francis can be a bit _friendly_ at times."

"In front of the entire school, no less. I mean, who does that? Can he show no decorum? No class?" She looked at him.

"Are you okay? You sound the way people do when their jealous."

"Jealous? Me? Ha!"

"Well, yes."

"Nonesense! That could be further from the truth."

"Could? As in it's close to the truth? As in you're jealous?"

"Couldn't! I meant couldn't. My God, one little mistake…" Arthur slightly glanced down at the French teen still tongue wrestling with the stupid cheerleader. _How could he make out with that slut?_ he thought. _She's probably riddled with gross STDs. That's probably going too far, she she riddled with STDs, maybe just one or two of the bad ones. Even if she were, that Frog bastard wouldn't contract it, I bet he has some handsome gene that prevents it. You know who is really at fault here? Why am I asking myself questions? Why is he so gorgeous, with his stupidly hot accent and moronically sexy smile? I bet this was his plan all along. He put himself into Anger Management just to spite me, that French bastard. I bet he doesn't even have anger issues, he doesn't have a single wrinkle on his face – he literally has a perfect completion! He did this all so he could find me and torment me. I can't stand this anymore. _"I'm going to go get something to drink."

"Ok," she nodded. "Hurry up, the second half is about to start."

"Alright," he answered. He headed down to the concession stand and waited a line. He checked the menu so he could have his order ready when he got there. He was up next when he noticed Lovino skipping in line ahead of me. "Hey, get to the back of the line!" he yelled.

"No fucking way, you fucking piece of shit," Lovino answered.

"Wow, you kiss your boyfriend with that mouth?"

"What he does with his mouth is none of your business, it's mine," commented Antonio. He stood in line right next to Lovino.

"Like I'd kiss a tomoato bastard," grumbled Lovino.

"You didn't seem to have a problem last night."

"Whatever," muttered Arthur, he just wanted to get out of this line. He was trying to ignore the two soccer players in front of him, however he was silently grateful because that meant the second half probably hadn't started yet.

"Come on my little tomato, just one kiss," begged Antonio.

"No."

"You don't see Francis having to work this hard." Arthur straightened up at the sound of Francis' name.

"Yea, who is that blonde he's sucking face with?"

"That's Bella, she's been obsessed with him for years."

"So he chose today to fuck her?"

"Yea, I don't know. Ever since Tuesday, he has been raving about how attractive green eyes are and she happened to have them. I think he said something about her dirty blond hair being a turn on too." Arthur was full on eavesdropping now.

"So she's just a one night stand? Do you know who he's really after?" Antonio got strangely quiet and at first Arthur thought it was because he knew that Francis was after him but he soon found out why.

"Eh, _mes amis_, it is time to get back to the game! Oh, Arthur, I didn't know you were here." Arthur turned around to see the French teen standing almost right behind him. His heart began to race but he was also saddened by the sight of Francis' arm around a cheerleader's waist.

"Yeah, I love football."

"_Ah oui, c'est un jeu magnifique, n'est-ce pas_?" asked Francis.

"_Moi, je l'adore,_" added the cheerleader. _Of course the bitch speaks French, _thought Arthur.

"Bella, _mon cher,_ no one asked you."

"Right." She seemed to make herself shrink into his side. Arthur smiled.

"It is definitely a great game. I really hope you win," he said. Francis dropped his arm from Bella's side and stepped closer to him.

"We will win, and I every goal I make will be for you," he winked. "Lovino, Antonio, _allons-y_!" They headed back to the field. Bella stayed and stared at Arthur for a moment.

"Stay away from my Francis, or I will hurt you," she warned, then she ran back to the field. Arthur shook off her threat, finally got his drink and headed back to the stands. It was a great game; Francis scored twelve goals.


	3. Trust exercises? I trust no one!

_**Well, here's the third chapter! I am extremely appreciative you guys who chose to review/favorite/follow this story. So I hope you enjoy it.**_

_**Please review! I really want to know what you guys think.**_

_**Disclaimer: Still don't own Hetalia :(**_

* * *

_Why couldn't they just cancel the anger management meeting? Rescheduling it to a Friday no less, would only piss more kids off. In what world is it wise to anger teens who take anger management? Lose your temper once, shout a couple of profanities, and break one chair on a kid's head and you have to go to an anger management club? This entire thing is bullshit! Sure the kid had a minor concussion, but he didn't deserve to be here anyway. Seriously, who gets a scholarship for playing the triangle? If you asked me, I saved him later torment from even harsher students. You're welcome, Peter. 'I'm from Sealand' it's not a fucking country you fucking moron! I guess the fact that it was a metal chair, does earn me one meeting, but what does sitting a classroom for an hour do but piss me off? Two months minimum? That bitch must be crazy if she thinks I'm going to stay in this fucking club for two months._

"_Salut, je peux asseyez ici?"_ An angelic voice asked. _Great! I was this close to forgetting about that soccer player. _

"I don't care." Arthur said, ignoring the French man and opened his book. _Really? French. Who are you trying to impress? Not me, because it clearly isn't working. No matter how sexy it sounds. _Francis frowned and took his seat.

"Did you notice how many goals I scored yesterday?" he asked politely. _Yes, twelve. Twelve fucking awesome goals, each more awesome than the last. Why in the world would you score twelve goals?! It is soccer not fucking basketball! Who do you think you are? David Beckham? Because you aren't! He's nowhere near as sexy as you are! So shut up!_

"Was there a soccer game yesterday?" I asked furrowed his eyebrows.

"_Mais, mon cher, _you were there."

"Was I?"

"I talked to you during the break."

"Did you?"

"Remember, I was with Bella." _Bella? Couldn't resist bringing up your cheerleading whore, I see. Why you didn't bring her here today if you wanted to throw her in my face! Why the hell should I care! I wasn't even there. Go hang out with your slut Francis. No one would miss you if you left, especially me. And take your beautifully blond hair and dream boat eyes with you! No one needs them._

"Bella? Doesn't ring a bell."

"Oh, it doesn't matter anyway. That was one of my worse games." _Are you fucking kidding me? Are you fucking Hercules? Who scores twelve incredibly lame goals in less than an hour and then complains?! You are so fucking humble it's adorable! Stop it! I demand you stop it!_

"Yea, I could tell," I answered nonchalantly.

"But, _mon chouchou_, you said you weren't there." _Dammit. I wasn't there! How dare you catch me in my lie!? Not only that but you had to use your fucking French, sounding sexy as hell! 'You said you weren't there'? Don't fucking quote me! Who gave you the right to reuse my words? Of course I was there, you fucking talked to me, you French bastard! Don't act all innocent like, we all know what you're thinking! 'Now I've caught ze the English boy in his stupid little lie, honhonhon! Now he has to admit to how awesome, handsome, sexy, athletic, talented, funny, and romantic he really thinks I am!' Well newsflash, you're not fucking awesome, maybe everything else, but not awesome! Keep calm Arthur; you can't stay in here for more than two months. You will fucking kill everyone! Relax! Oh god, he's looking at me! Why the fuck is he looking at me? Doesn't he know how distracting those eyes are? Stop it Frog! Say something Arthur!_

"Oh, you mean that soccer game. The one that was yesterday?" Francis looked at him incredulously.

"Yes, that game. You watched it?"

"No." Francis raised an eyebrow at him and Arthur felt a shiver course through his body. _Goddammit! How can he do that!? Why can he do that? He shouldn't have that kind of power over me! I refuse it! Take that you bastard! I will not succumb to you fucking French sex tricks! I am much too powerful for that, you glorified Frog!_

"You're confusing me, you didn't see the game?" _Of course I'm confusing you, I'm confusing myself! You're damn eyes are making me lose focus. Why would I admit to seeing the game now? Hmm? I'm already this far in my lie, God himself could come down and tell you that I was at that game and I would deny it._

"I meant I could tell that the game wasn't your best because you came in looking a bit down." _Good, nice save._

"Oh, that odd. I was feeling quite happy today, I get to see you again." _How dare he?! Not only does he ruin my save, but then he turns it into a compliment? That fucking asshole! Who does he think he is being all kind and sympathetic!? I don't want you to be nice to me! You don't deserve it! Come on Arthur, really let him have it! Give that frog bastard what for! Him and his golden locks from heaven!_

"I guess."_ Ooooo, burn. Point Arthur!_ Francis looked at him as though he was about to say something but Mr. Vargas interrupted.

"Ok little ones, today we are going to work on trust. Everyone is going to need a partner."

"I call Lovino!" announced Antonio.

"You better stay away from me you tomato bastard!"

"Oh, come on Lovi. Can't we move past this hate part of our relationship and just have the love?"

"I swear to fucking god, if you come near me, I will stab you with your own tomatoes!" _Stab with tomatoes? Was this guy just saying the first thing that came to his mind?_

"Lovino stop screaming or I will make you be partners will Gilbert!" warned Mr. Vargas.

"Never! I would never work with that potato bastard!"

"Yea, he's nowhere near awesome enough to be my partner," commented Gilbert.

"I am so awesome. Way too awesome for you!"

"You are pretty incredible," concurred Antonio.

"Stay away from me, I have the tomatoes ready." Francis looked at Arthur.

"We're partners," he declared. _Who the fuck does he think he is? What if I don't want to be his partner? Even if I did, I wouldn't let him decide that for me! You know what I should do? I should go along with it just to spite him. Let him know what being my partner really entails. That's right; he's my partner, not the other way around. I claim him as my own! His French ass is mine! Not in that way, even though I'm sure his ass is as perfectly toned as the rest of him. Not that I've been staring, I would never give him the satisfaction! But man, does he work out! Get a life you prick! _

"Sure," replied Arthur.

"Oh, I wasn't asking." _That French bastard! What the hell does he mean he wasn't asking? Who the fuck made him king of partner choosing? Last time I checked, France wasn't the one with the king, England was! So that makes me king! King of everything! You hear that Francis! You have nothing._

"Ok people, this is a trust exercise. One of you will stand in front and the other in back and then the person in front will fall into the other's arms. Please do not drop anyone," he added glaring at Lovino, who was polite enough to scowl back. Once everyone was in place, the exercise was set to begin.

"Fall into my arms, my little tomato," smiled Antonio excitedly.

"No! Get away from me!"

"But _mi amor_, you cannot catch yourself."

"That would be better than letting you touch me! Move! I'll do it myself!"

"I don't want you to get hurt."

"I said move out of my fucking way! I can take care of myself! I don't need help from a tomato bastard." Lovino turned around and crossed his arms as he began to fall. Antonio ran up behind him and caught him before he landed on the cold concrete floor. "Dammit Antonio! Thank you for fucking catching me, you Spanish bastard! Is that what you wanted to hear? Thank you, you mother fucker! You always know what to fucking do! It is really annoying and you should stop it! I don't know who you think you are, but it doesn't matter anyway because you suck and you smell and I hate you!" Antonio laughed and kissed Lovino lightly on the forehead while he still had him in his arms. Lovino jumped up and started throwing some pocketed tomatoes at the Spainard. _Pocketed tomatoes? Where the hell does this kid get tomatoes that can fit in his pocket? He probably has a magical portal that leads him to an everlasting supply of tomatoes from there! That's how he keeps Antonio around, that bastard loves those things and he can't really love that angry jerk, can he? Note to self: Steal Lovino's tomato portal._

"Lovino! Antonio! Stop it!" yelled Mr. Vargas. "The exercise is over for you two, go sit down!"

"Fuck you uncle! I don't even need this stupid class!" grumbled Lovino as he headed back to his chair next to Antonio.

"I believe it is our turn now," Francis whispered in Arthur's ear.

"Bloody hell!" he jumped. "It is not necessary for you to stand that close to me!"

"Oh? I'm sorry. I just like being close to you," he replied innocently, as if he was pouting. _Teenage boys should never be able to look that attractive, it isn't fair! I bet if I tried pouting like that this French bastard would think I was having a seizure! But there he is, looking like an angel, with his flowing hair, heart melting eyes and god-like form! How dare he be so good looking! I swear if he says one more thing, I'm going to kiss him! I'll do it! Right here in front of everyone! _"Do you wish to fall into my arms?" smiled the French teen. _Oh god! Why is this happening to me?_

"Ok." Arthur turned around and crossed his arms. _Please let him catch me, _he whispered to himself as he let his body fall. At first he felt the force of another body catch him but then it gave way and he was falling again. He felt his own body land on something. "My god, you bloody wanker! All you had to do was catch me!" he began. He turned himself until he was looking down at Francis under him. The French boy was smiling up at him. _What the hell is he smiling at? Didn't he feel the fall? We are on the fucking ground for Pete's sake!_

"Why do you look so happy?"

"Do you have a pickle in your pocket or are you just happy to see me?" _What the bloody hell is he talking about? I hate pickles! They are obviously just rotten cucumbers! Well, except on a good sandwich, hey it's better than sauerkraut. Well, that's not true. This kid is unbelievable, now I'm hungry. He should take me to lunch for making me this hungry on purpose. I wonder if he eats lunch? He doesn't look like he does. Damn, his body is even more perfect up close…_His eyes wondered down Francis' anatomy until they landed on his own body. He jumped up.

"Oh god! That- that's an accident."

"I don't know, it seemed pretty firm."

"Shut up!"

"Aw, _mon cher_, there's no need to be ashamed! Love expresses itself in many ways."

"I said shut up you French Adonis!"

"Adonis?"

"Asshole! I said asshole!"

"No, no you definitely said Adonis!" corrected Lovino.

"Shut up you Italian bastard! No one asked you!" screamed Arthur.

"No one had to ask me, you English mother fucker! I know what I heard because it's what you said! And don't you fucking yell at me because you are obsessed with the French bastard!" Lovino's head began to resemble a tomato as he screamed. Francis smiled.

"Aw, my little tomato is getting upset," worried Antonio as he tried to calm his friend down.

"STAY AWAY FROM ME, YOU BASTARD!"

"Lovino! Principal's office now!" asserted Mr. Vargas strongly. "Everyone else back to their seats! That is enough trust exercises for today!" As Arthur headed back to his, Mr. Vargas pulled him aside. "Now, for your situation," he whispered to his student. "You can use my personal bathroom. My German friend recently left some magazines in there that will certainly help you rub out- I mean, work out your little problem." Anger grew inside Arthur as he glared at his teacher's understanding face. _How dare this bastard insinuate that I have a problem!? Who does he think he is? And little? I'll have you know guy, I have a perfectly average sized 'problem'! Even above average in some countries! And it is definitely not a problem! Look at that French bastard over there. He's the one who did this to me in the first place! Now he's just sitting over there being all smug with his perfect smile, perfect hair and perfect face! I just want to kiss him-I mean smack him! _


	4. Attempted Defenestration

_**Hey guys! I really appreciated all of your reviews, please keep them coming :)**_

_**I hope you enjoy this chapter...**_

_**Disclaimer: Nope, still don't own Hetalia.**_

* * *

"Mr. Vargas?" asked Arthur as he peaked into the room. It was Tuesday morning and he wanted to see if he could speak to his teacher before their class later this afternoon.

"Why hello there, _piccolo_, what can I do for you?" his teacher asked. Arthur walked slowly into the room and closed the door behind him.

"I was wondering if you could help me with a problem?" Mr. Vargas' eyes grew a little but he smiled knowingly.

"Of course," he began as he pointed to the bathroom. "I have some more magazines in there but I could get better ones from my friends, perhaps-"

"I DON'T NEED ANY MORE MAGAZINES!" the British boy yelled. His teacher jumped back a little but then recomposed himself.

"I can see that you are angry." Arthur rolled his eyes.

"Really?"

"What is wrong?"

"It's about your class."

"Oh, there's no need to thank me. I enjoy helping you young ones, even though I may have some more interesting things to deal with, you guys are fun too."

"No, I mean there's a kid in your classs that just seems too…well, he enjoys…I just can't think when…he's very distracting." Mr. Vargas raised a perfectly plucked eyebrow.

"I know what you mean," he nodded. "His obsession with tomatoes worries me too, but apparently that's not enough reason to get him removed from the class." _What the deuce? Was he talking about that tomato-bastard Antonio? Who gave a flying Popsicle bomb about him?_

"I wasn't talking about Antonio," he claimed, trying to remain calm. "This kid is always annoying me. He's so smug and self-confident and perfect – I mean, a pain. I just think it would be better for my "anger situation" if I left the class." His teacher looked at him for a bit, confused but soon it appeared as if a light bulb had gone off in his brain.

"Aw, it's _amore giovane,_ young love." _What? What the bloody hell is this guy talking about? I don't love anyone! Especially not that Frog bastard! He's the one who's in love with me! I mean why wouldn't he be? I have the eyebrows of a god! It doesn't even matter who loves who, because I don't even like the guy! Where does this guy get off? _Yet despite his anger, Arthur couldn't stop himself from blushing slightly.

"I don't love anyone," he spat.

"Is it Gilbert?"

"What!?" Arthur tried to focus on the man's words but his comment was really starting to irritate him. _Gilbert? Who the hell would have a crush of Gilbert? I mean don't you know that I have standards!_

"No, he's too awesome for you. It's it Lovino?" Mr. Vargas smiled. _Too awesome? Wha-what? I am plenty awesome! I could have Gilbert any day of the week if I wanted, he just never showed interest- wait! I don't even like that guy! The only reason I even know his name is because he and Francis are friends. Francis. God damn you, you French son of a bitch! Why are you even in this class? You never get angry! I'm pretty your lack of anger is actually making me angrier! Stop keeping so bloody calm!_ His teacher took his silence as agreement and smiled to himself. "It is okay my friend; the only way to get rid of the worry inside you is to tell him how you feel." Arthur pulled out of his thoughts for a second to look at the older man. _What is he talking about? Tell Francis how I feel? How can I bloody do that? I don't even know how I feel. God I swear these people are retarded!_

"What?"

"I know you're feeling confused but your feelings are natural. _What do you know about feelings? Always smiling like you've always won the freaking lottery! If your teeth weren't so perfect I'd knock them right out of your mouth!_

"I don't really understand-"

"And that's okay, but it is not okay to hide how you feel. You need to let him know." _Really? Should I tell Francis? I'm not even sure if I like that frog bastard! But this guy seems to know a lot of about relationships, maybe..._

"What if I'm not sure?"

"Like I said before, it's okay. But between you and me, I'm pretty sure he likes you too," the Italian man winked.

_Wait, what? Where does this man get his information? What agency does he use? Francis likes me! Wow, I-just wow. Well now the shoe's on the other foot now isn't it, you french bastard! I knew I was amazing but this! This kid practically worships me! I really should let him down easy, but I guess I could entertain him for a while. Let him take me out once or twice...I mean completely on my own accord, of course. And it's not like I would enjoy it, God no. I would just be helping out a friend, not a friend because I hate that bloody frog, but a person, who looks like a god. It would be just to let him down easy, that's what a gentleman does. He let's a man take him out to brighten his day- no his **life**! Just think of the stories he could tell our-I mean his grandchildren! I am really just making the world a better place for him, Jeremy, William and Jane. I'm assuming that's their names, good proper English names. He could talk of the day where he got to date the man with the eyebrows of a god. God himself must have come down and crafted them... They're obviously the reason this poor man feel head over heels for me, but who could blame the sap? I'm pretty darn attractive. _

"Oh, really?" Arthur asked a little smugly.

"Definitely. In fact, I have another activity planned for today and I'm pretty sure two certain people will be working together this time." Arthur tried to suppress his smile.

"Whatever you want to do is fine with me." Mr. Vargas nodded.

"Of course, well you should run along. The first bell is about to ring!"

Arthur ran into his anger management class happily for the first time after school and eagerly took his seat As kids began to flood in Arthur couldn't help but smile.

_Today is an excellent day. First, I aced my arithmetic exam, and then the cafeteria actually had scones. They were hard as rocks, dry as sand, cold as concrete and delicious!...and now, _he thought as a certain French boy entered the classroom_, it's only going to get better. _

Francis took his seat near the overly excited Briton. Francis glanced over to him and gave him a quick smile. _Look at him, can't even resist staring at me for a second. Who can? I'm so incredible handsome. _Arthur smiled back.

"Happy about something?" Arthur asked smugly.

"_Oui_, I get to see you again."

"That is something you'd be happy about isn't it?"

"It would be perfect if we weren't in this atrocious setting, and I didn't have to see those caterpillars you call eyebrows." _What the- I thought that he- how could? How dare he!?_

"You dare mock my eyebrows? I'll have to show you what for!"

"For what?"

"What for, ugh never mind you blasted imbecile, just don't insult my eyebrows!"

"Please, how could I not. Have you looked in the mirror? No, I didn't think those monstrosities could fit in such a tiny frame." _That's it! _

Arthur leaped across his desk and tackled the unsuspecting Frenchman, who quickly maneuvered so that he had Arthur pinned down.

"Did you really think I didn't know how to get on top?" Francis brought his face close to the other boy's, "I'm always on top." He finally got off him, brushed off any dirt that might have gotten onto his pants, and retook his seat. Mr. Vargas apparently didn't see any of this and began to speak.

"OK boys, stop playing your little game. We have a very important lesson today," claimed the teacher as he gave a quick wink to Arthur. _No! Abort mission! There's no way I'm going to be with this bastard now! He insulted my eyebrows! I bet he's never even seen real eyebrows before he met me, these are man brows! _"But first things first, Antonio, I"m going to have to ask you to leave." Antonio pulled his attention away from his 'little tomato' to look at the tall Italian man standing at the front of the room.

"What?" he asked confused.

"You clearly do not have any anger issues and are only using this class to spend time with Lovino. You have plenty other occasions to get into his pants but my classroom is not one of them. Please leave."

"Umm, okay... bye Lovi." Antonio sulked towards the door, before finally letting himself out.

"Finally!" shouted a boy from the back. He got up and walked to Antonio's empty seat. "My name's Sadik," he smiled to Lovino. "May I sit here?" Lovino stared after Antonio for a bit before shaking his head to clear it of his thoughts. He slunk even lower into his chair.

"Whatever," he mumbled to Sadik.

For a moment you could see Antonio's face enviously staring through the class' open door, but his face quickly returned to normal, in fact, calmer than normal before he disappeared entirely, shutting the door sternly behind him.

"We don't need that tomato bastard," Sadik whispered to Lovino. "He was just holding you back." The Italian boy nodded in agreement but for some reason he didn't seem any happier.

"Alright now that that's over with, I have another activity for you guys but this time I am going to put you guys into groups of two." Arthur scowled in his seat. _I guess I can still be his partner. I won't enjoy it though, especially after his rude comments about my facial hair! He'll probably enjoy it though, being partnered with me will probably the highlight of his year, no his life. Meanwhile I'm stuck with an eyebrow hating jerk! Life sucks._

"Ok, the groups are as follows, Arthur and-" he began, however he was interrupted by a loud voice on the intercom.

"Sadik Adnen, please report to the main office." The Turkish boy got up and headed for the door.

"I'll be back, Lovino," he claimed as he exited.

Within a couple of moments of Sadik leaving the room loud punches could be heard, along with angry shouts saying, "don't touch my little tomato!", "If I ever see near him again this will be a whole lot worse!", and "I will drive an ax through your head!" and a whole lot of whimpering. Mr. Vargas stood near the door, wondering if he really wanted to see what was on the other side. Lovino rolled his eyes as he got up and opened the door, only to see a bloody Antonio hovering over a cowering Sadik who was trying to protect a face that was pretty much down for. Antonio smiled at him before walking back into the classroom.

"Hi, Mr. Vargas! That lady outside sent me back in here. Something about being brutally violent, and bipolar, but it doesn't matter, I'm always calm whenever I'm with my little tomato!" The Spaniard grabbed the Italian boy's hand and led him back to their seats. Lovino didn't sulk anymore, in fact now he seemed too alert. The teacher watched as the Turkish boy coughed up blood and moan at the sight of his inners flowing out of him. He then decided to close the door. _What the bloody Hell? You don't just do that! He could be dying. I think he is dying! Is this normal here? Two students sent to the emergency room in the same month? Granted one of them was my fault..._

"One of the other teachers will help him, no need to worry you children with that. So what we will be doing today-," he began. _Is he serious? That boy is dying? Isn't anyone going to help him? _Arthur looked around at the other students, no on seemed disturbed at all by the fact that one of them was now in the fetal position, regurgitating his insides onto a concrete floor. His eyes finally landed on Francis, who actually happened to be looking at him.

"What are you doing?" he whispered.

"Isn't anyone going to help him?"

"No, he'll be fine. We have a soccer game _demain_." Arthur looked at him incredulously.

"I don't think he'll be able to play."

"No, he'll be there. Our writer, you know, the one who created this fan fiction, she knows that we need him to win and she would never do that to us. He'll be fine by tomorrow," he claimed confidently.

"I guess."

"_Mais, tu es adorable_ when you are worried."

"I know I'm adorable! I don't need you to tell me that!" Francis stared at him.

"I am really tired of your anger Arthur." _Oh, he's tired of my anger is he? Well I'm tired of him being so damn good looking all the time, making me feel like an ugly step sister but does he stop it? Damn French bastard, you can't get everything you want from good looks you know?! Not that I noticed, because I didn't!_

"Well, this is an anger management class. Which I have got to say, you don't really get angry a lot. Why are you here?" Francis sighed.

"You know the guidance counselor?" he asked sheepishly.

"Queen bitch," Arthur nodded.

"Well, she has kids who go here...I decided to be friendly and show them around."

"So, what happened?"

"I slept with both of them, together, broke their hearts and now she has a bit of a grudge."

"Wait, what? How could you do that?"

"Me? Bless that girl and boy's lives by sleeping with them, and I'm the one to blame? They weren't even good. You'd think with three people it would be more fun but they were just cold and motionless, I literally had to instruct them every step of the way. I told them in advance, point blank, that it was meaningless, but those whores said they didn't care. They _always_ care." _I wouldn't care but could you blame them? Letting them into your world, it must have been the best night of their life! And you crushed them, you heartless, sexy bastard. I wish I could just take you aside and teach you a lesson, show you what it really means to be a man! I want to bend him over my knee and spank him until his bum's all red and bruised! STOP! STOP! STOP. Now. You're about to pass the point where this is no longer TEEN rated. Remember our readers. Hi readers! _

"Who are you waving at?" Francis asked Arthur, staring in the direction of the fourth wall.

"Nothing! It's just you can't really-"

"All right, now that we all know what the exercise is, let's get into our groups. I have to move some names around, but we'll be okay. So Lovino will be with Arthur, Francis will be with Gilbert, Antonio and Elizabeta, and.." Mr. Vargas kept going but Arthur had already tuned out. _What the actual fuck?! Lovino! I was supposed to be with Francis! We were going to be partner and then start hanging out outside of class, eventually going on one or two dates before he realized his undying love for me. Then he was going to ask for us to go steady and of course i would say yes because we'd be so madly in love. Eventually he'd want to move our relationship toward a more romantic nature and of course I'd agree because, well look at that body! But then, then by the time we we've been in college together for a while, he'll want to move in with me and I'd probably still say yes because that would definitely make paying rent easier and that would just cut down on our commute between each others apartments and he already has all his stuff at my place anyway. Then one day, when he least expects it, I'll say no, I don't know to what yet but it will be brutal and when he asks why, I'll say it was because he is a smug son of a bitch who doesn't deserve me! Lovino? Really?Why the hell would he put me with that grumpy motherfucker? Doesn't that bastard know that he and Antonio are a thing? Oh, god, Antonio..._a cold shiver ran up Arthur's spine. He slowly snuck a peek at the Spaniard sitting in the back but he looked calm. Just as calm as he looked before leaving the room earlier. _Oh Jesus, I'm going to die..._

"Mr. Vargas? Is it possible to switch partners?" Arthur asked trying to hide his fear, poorly though.

"Why? I think you two would make excellent partners." He winked. "If you're lucky than you could be partners for the rest of the year." _Why would he wink? Did he not just see what happened to the Sadik kid just for sitting next to Lovino? Does this guy want me in the infirmary? Yes. That must be his master plan! Get all the kids in anger management killed by Antonio and the school will be a calmer place. That sneaky bastard! And no one would pin it on him because he looks as good as Francis! Damn this school! I need an escape route quick!_

"I was actually really hoping to work with Francis." Francis, who was already having a conversation of looks with Gilbert cocked his head at the sound of his name, as if to say _I bet you would._

"But you personally asked for Lovino this morning."

"I what?"

"He WHAT?" asked Lovino. _Oh god, Antonio's looking so calm right now. Bloody git looks like he belongs on a fucking beach right now!_

"You thought I was talking about Lovino? N-N-No. I no. Lovino and Antonio should work together... please...please."

"Wait then who, was the boy you were talking about-"

"Nobody! I was speaking about myself. How I didn't like it here."

"Wait, so where you talking about Francis?" Francis smiled at him as Arthur's blush deepened.

"Shut the bloody Hell up! I want to work alone. I hate each and every Mofo in this class and I'll be damned to have to work with anyone." I screamed before quickly adding, "I don't hate Antonio or Lovino, of course, but who could?"

"But this morning you specifically asked me about dealing with your feelings for someone. The way you were speaking made it pretty obvious that it was someone in this class," implied Mr. Vargas. Arthur couldn't decide whether he was purposefully being cruel or he was really this much of a fucking idiot. _Doesn't this idiot know when to shut up? What the fucking Hell is this goddamn bastard's problem?_

"I don't like anyone! I have no feelings for anyone! Can we just move on?"

"Fine. Francis, would you please be Arthur's partner? He obviously-"

"Obviously nothing!" Arthur spat.

"_Avec plaisir,_" crooned the French boy. "I would love to work with him." Arthur could feel his ears get warmer as Francis smiled smugly at him.

"Well, I don't want to work with you! Fucking smug as Hell French bastard!" sighed.

"Who could you possibly be in love with now? Please just pick someone, we are wasting a lot of time on this."

"Why on Earth do you not shut up? Really? The fuck is your problem asshole? Just fuck off! Who the fuck put someone who was going to piss kids off in charge of anger management? What a fucking stupid idea that was! You know what? I'm leaving!" Arthur headed toward the door but Francis blocked his pathway.

"_Mon cher_, if you just admitted your feelings for me, we wouldn't have to do this dance anymore?" _Dance? What bloody dance? Do I look like I'm dancing? God, I swear I can never understand anything through that accent of his._

"Get out of my way fuckface!"

"_Non_."

"Fine!" Arthur turned around and headed toward one of the windows on the side of the classroom_. _"I'll just leave through here!"_ It'll be awesome, I'll be mother fucking James Bond! _He backed up and tried to get a running start._ Ok, if I jump at just the right time and hit the glass at just the right angle I can do a perfect front flip._

"_Mon amour,_ don't do this. I don't want you to hurt yourself. Here, you can leave through the door."

"Shut up! I don't need your stupid door Frenchie." Arthur said ignorantly and began to run. He ran in perfectly even strokes and jumped at the precise time to smash right into the window, hard. He bounced back and landed on his ass. He couldn't shake the taste of blood out of his mouth before he quickly passed out.

"If you're done trying to break through plastic windows, we have a meeting to continue." Mr. Vargas said to an unconscious Arthur, making a face like, _last time I ever try and help these kids. _


	5. Pencils have a case for a reason!

_**Hey people! Here's the next chapter, I really hope you enjoy it.**_

_**Thanks for the reviews, they mean a lot to me so please keep them coming :)**_

_**Disclaimer: Hetelia is still not on my list of possessions...**_

* * *

"_Mon amour_?

"_Mon amour_, please wake up." Arthur felt a gentle hand stroke his temple as an angelic voice beckoned for him to wake. His eyes fluttered open to see Francis standing over him.

"You're up," he smiled.

"What the hell? Where the bloody hell am I? And why are you here?"

"Well, that's rude," pouted the French boy. "I assume that's not how you should treat the person who took care of you." Arthur looked at Francis, as a wave of guilt washed over him.

"I'm sorry," he mumbled. "Thanks for taking care of me."

_The poor guy must have had to carry me all the way here; where is here anyway? I don't remember anything after passing out but, this doesn't look like the nurse's office._

He scanned the room to find a dorm that was nothing like his own. It had the same three beds, two closets, a room he supposed was the bathroom and a couple of windows.

_I might need those later_ _if we are where I think we are_, he noted.

But other than that the room was completely different. This room was covered in posters of mostly women but there were also men. There were some pictures on the walls near the other beds but Arthur was too far away to see them clearly.

"Uh, where am I?"

"Oh, this is my room," Francis smiled. "Do you like it?"

_This is his room? So I was sleeping on his bed? While he just stood there and watched me? Oh god, I hope that's all he did! Was anybody else in here? What about the two people that sleep in those beds? Was there a whole expedition of the Brit unconscious in the bloody Frog's bed? I bet there was; they probably charged tickets at the door! I better get my cut of that! What am I even saying? Why did he bring me here? There is a nurse for a reason! She probably went to a school or something and now she's our nurse. If they wanted students to take care of students then she wouldn't be here, now the poor woman's going to have one less patient. Really mature Francis!_

"Sure. Why did you bring me here?"

"I wanted to take care of you."

"You could have brought me to the nurse."

_You know, like a fucking normal person!_

"I said_**I**_wanted to take care of you," he said, sitting down next to Arthur and looking into his eyes. "Besides, your wounds didn't seem that bad, if I thought you were actually going to die," he smiled mischievously. "I might have."

_Might? What the hell does he mean might? Oh god, he would have let me die here. If it were up to this bastard I would be a dead body eternally lying on his bed, because I am so damn lovable, he wants to keep me confined to his quarters. Well screw you, you bastard. I'm going home!_

"Well thank you, I guess I'll be going now." Arthur began to get up, but Francis tackled him and pinned him back down on the bed. As usual the Brit freaked out and tried to escape the French boy's grasp, however after a few moments of wrestling, Francis finally got Arthur to stay still by sitting on his chest. "Get off of me!"

"_Mais mon cher,_ you can't leave now. You could have a concussion!"

_I just might! Maybe I should go see a professional about it, you know maybe like a nurse! Not some kid who wanted to play doctor! _

Francis leaned in close to his face and smiled. Arthur tried to avoid his eyes but Francis was making that extremely hard to do. His cologne was intoxicating and the way his body was positioned on top of Arthur's, the Brit couldn't help but think of the possibilities.

"_Je sais exactement ce que je peux faire pour vous faire sentir mieux_," he whispered seductively.

_I do too, take me now!_

Arthur leaned in forward to kiss Francis, just as the French boy jumped off him to head toward the kitchen. Needless to say, Arthur ended up puckering up to kiss the air. Francis turned around.

"What are you doing?"

"What does it look like I'm doing?"_ That's right play it cool._

"Are you having a spasm?"

"NO! I was warming up my lips for whatever you are going to get me to eat from that kitchen, there." Francis raised an eyebrow.

"I know a much more practical way to work out your lips," he claimed. Arthur blushed.

"No, I'm good. They're fine now."

"Are you sure? I'd be happy to help."

"Nope, they're fine see," he puckered his lips.

"They are fine indeed," Francis bit his own bottom lip. "_Ils ont l'air tellement sexy_, as if they're calling my name," he whispered. Arthur sucked his lips back in and looked awkwardly at the floor.

"What did you say?" he asked innocently, but he smiled to himself. _The bastard likes me_. Francis shook his head.

"Never mind, I'll be right back."

_I was sooo close…hmm, why is it so cold in here?_

Arthur looked down in horror. He was completely naked save for his boxers, thank God.

"Where are my clothes?"

"I put them in the wash for you."

"Oh," Arthur cooed calming down. "Wait, why?"

"Shhh, don't fret about details, I made you some scones and tea."

"Really?"

"No, those things are disgusting; I got you some good French food, wine and cheese."

_What the hell Francis? You take my clothes, my scones, but not my kiss? "What are you doing?" What the bloody Hell did it look I was doing? Bastard._

Francis placed the cheese platter one a coffee table and handed Arthur a glass, however before he could take a sip the French boy stopped him.

"Sorry, that one is mine," he explained as he attempted to switch glasses.

_What do you mean, 'mine'? Are you trying to drug me? Who the Hell pre-claims a glass? No, the second I touched this cup it, and its contents belonged to me_, thought Arthur as he drank from Francis' glass.

"No, that's the one with the-" Francis sighed. "Nevermind."

_That was odd._

He wanted to get some cheese but he felt a little insecure about strutting across this kid's room with no clothes.

_Well, I do have my boxers._ He looked down. _Yes, the one's with Pokemon plastered all over them. Real sexy. Thank you Kiku, for the splendid gift. _

He thought as he rolled his eyes. Francis saw Arthur looking uncomfortable so he tried to help by removing his own clothes.

"What are you doing?"

"Trying to make you more comfortable, _mon mignon_."

_More comfortable? How could sitting in a room, practically in the nude with some pervert make me comfortable? I bet he's mocking me. All like 'look at that silly Englishman, all pasty and not nearly as fit as I, honhonhon. I should taunt with my perfect body'. In that stupid fake French accent that isn't nearly as sexy as the real thing, that son of a bitch!_

"You could try giving me my clothes back!"

"I will, Gilbert's probably bringing them as we speak."

"Why does Gilbert have them?"

"Because I after I took them off you, I didn't really know what to do with them and he, being so very awesome, took them away."

"To the laundry room?"

"Well, I assume."

"How long was I out?"

"Perhaps a day."

"When did Gilbert leave?" Francis looked as his watch.

"Yesterday…" he said vaguely.

"He's not coming back."

"No don't say that. He's a great guy, pretty awesome in fact. But if you are so insecure about your body," Francis said as he picked up his clothes and handed them to Arthur. "Here."

_Insecure? Who does he think he is? I'm not fucking insecure! I'm just a little self-conscious about what I look like without my clothes on-completely different! Not all of us are fucking models, okay! _He figured the t-shirt in his hands, while slowly glancing over Francis' nearly completely bare body. _Snap out of it Arthur! Start talking about something!_

"Yea, wait don't you guys have a soccer game today?"

"Ugh, I did but the author wanted me to spend the day with you." Francis sat down next to Arthur on the bed, bringing the plate of cheese along with him. He offered him one and Arthur tried to grab one without looking at Francis' warm body merely inches away from his but ending up turning the entire plate over.

"I'm sorry."

"It's okay. I know I can be distracting."

"You're not distracting."

"Then why won't you look at me?"

"I was really interested in that picture over there." Francis looked at one of the poster's on his wall.

"You know Gerald Depardieu?"

"Love him." _Who the hell is this guy? Is he an actor or something? I'm pretty sure he's French._

"What's your favorite movie with him?"

"I don't have a bloody favourite! They are all incredible!"

"Name one!"

"I don't have to take this!" He got up, but then he realized he was practically naked and sat back down. He turned his back to Francis and tried to figure out a way to leave.

"Don't be mad at me," begged Francis as he scooted over to Arthur and leaned on his back. Arthur jumped.

"Don't touch me!"

"Why not?"

"You aren't wearing any clothes!"

"Neither are you," he laughed. Arthur looked at himself, he hadn't put on the clothes yet.

"That doesn't make it better!" he yelled back, as he started putting the clothes on. Francis' frowned at him a little bit as he pulled up the jeans.

"I don't understand you." _What do you mean you don't understand me? You're the weird guy who just takes of his clothes at random times!_

"What do you mean?"

"You obviously are attracted to me but it feels like you're fighting it, like maybe you're confused about me."_ Obvious? It's not obvious, at least not to me! And if I don't understand how I feel, there's no way, you'd understand, you stupid frog!_

"Maybe I just don't like you."

"Not possible." _Not possible? What is with this guy? Just because he's right, doesn't mean he has to be so smug!_

"So what if I do like you?"

"Then I'd want you to prove it."

"How?"

"Kiss me."

"Is there a second option?" Francis patted a spot on the bed and Arthur sat down hesitantly.

"Just one kiss, _un seul petit baiser_." Arthur leaned over slightly before changing his mind.

"I don't really think-" But before he could finish his thought, he felt the electric sensation of Francis' lips on his own. He was so calm yet excited. Arthur tried to fight it as the kiss got deeper but he honestly wanted Francis to push on. After a couple more seconds, Arthur had to pull away for air and he quickly took in his surroundings before kissing him again.

_I can't believe I'm doing this! I knew he wanted me, I mean who wouldn't? With these eyebrows? Please, but never…I just…wow. He is so kind even if he is smug and perverted sometimes. I think we could actually have a serious relation-wait, what is that?_

Arthur looked at a single pencil sitting on the middle of the room floor.

_Pencils don't belong on the floor, they belong in a pencil case. I guess it isn't really a big a deal,_ he tried to focus his attention back to Francis, who was staring at him lustfully.

_Look at him, he's so sexy and inviting and…and…and sloppy! I mean who leaves a pencil on the floor? What if I stepped on it? I could have fallen! What would this frog bastard do then, huh? What if I had hurt my eyebrows in the fall? Then what would I have? Nothing! Everything has a place for a reason! _

Francis leaned in to start kissing him on the neck and slowly move back up to his lips.

_What is this blasted frog doing? How can he focus knowing that fricking pencil is sitting there, staring? What if we got married, huh? I bet it would get worse! He'd drop whole pencil boxes on the floor! Our house would literally be covered in pencils, pens, sharpies and all kinds of frivolous writing materials! And what about the children? What if they grow up thinking that leaving pencils on the floor is "normal"? I will not raise a bunch of sloppy, pencil dropping bastards! I won't! _

Arthur turned to look at Francis, as the teen tried to go in for a kiss but Arthur's palm effectively stopped his face.

"What the bloody hell are you doing?"

"_Mais mon amour,_ what do you mean?"

"That bloody pencil, that's what I mean! Who in their right mind leaves a pencil on the floor for the whole world to see!?" Francis stared at Arthur confusedly, while the boy got up to pick up the pencil. "Where do you keep your pencil case?" he asked angrily

"Um, in the desk,"

"So he can keep that in it's proper place, but leaves dangerous weapons lying around like children's toys," he commented, mostly to himself. He mumbled some more as he found the case and put away the pencil. "And that is where that belongs!"

"Ok, Francis' I got the English bastard's clothes," claimed Gilbert as he entered the room. "They were stupid so I threw them away and got him awesomer one's instead. We should hurry though or we'll be late for the…game." The albino stared at Arthur yelling at Francis. "Is everything okay?"

"Everything's bloody splendid!" yelled Arthur as he left the room. He was heading back to his room when he ran into Alfred.

"Hey man, I feel like I haven't seen you in forever," his friend smiled at him. "Where have you been?"

"Nowhere," he answered a little too quickly.

"Okayyy, sure. Do you want to go to the soccer game thing with me and Michelle? I heard their concession stand has mad burgers - like to die for."

"Um, no thanks," he said as he tried to walk past him. Alfred stood in his way.

"But you like soccer, and I already told Michelle you'd come," he added sheepishly.

"Then tell her I got sick or something."

"What's wrong with you?"

"Nothing!" He kept walking to his room, with Arthur silently walking beside him but soon he noticed that a lot of kids were staring at him. _What are they bloody looking at? I don't have another one of those damn leaves in my hair do I? _He ran his fingers through his hair, all clear. _Then what is it? _

"Hello Arthur," said a cold voice behind him. He turned to face Bella, glaring at him in her cheerleading outfit. "We missed you this morning."

"What are you talking about?"

"You were gone all day, some of us thought you were in the hospital but we can obviously see what happened." _What is wrong with her?_ He followed her glare to his clothes. _There is nothing wrong with these clothes, granted they're a little big, and they are kind of fancy and they...they belong to Francis. Oh, god, I'm still wearing his clothes. _Bella raised an eyebrow to him as he blushed a little.

"Look Bella, it's not-"

"I told you to stay away from him!" She screamed as she lunged and pinned him to the floor. Arthur winced as his head hit the floor. A searing pain throbbed where he had hit his scalp on the window.

"Woah, Bella, what's your deal?" asked Alfred.

"Get off, me you crazy bitch!" yelled Arthur. A small crowd began to form around the two.

"You wouldn't hit a girl, now would you?" she asked innocently, eyeing the crowd.

"I don't want to hit you, i want you to get the hell off of me!"

"Why are you wearing Francis' clothes?"

"What does it matter?!"

"Don't give me that, I see the way he looks at you! Were you with him?" Arthur nervously examined the growing number of students around them. Alfred was trying to get them to move on but to no avail.

"Can we please talk privately?"

"NO! DID YOU SLEEP WITH FRANCIS, _PUTAIN DE SALOPE_?!"

"What does that even mean!?"

"Hey, Bella! Qu'est-ce que tu fais?" asked Francis moving through the crowd. He had already managed to change into his soccer uniform and was heading to the field when he noticed the commotion. She quickly jumped off Arthur and fixed her uniform.

"Nothing, I was just worried about you, mon angle. I wanted to make sure this kid wasn't taking advantage of you."

"Well, that's very sweet, but unnecessary. You should go."

"But-"

"Vas!" Bella frowned at him before turning around and leaving. Francis walked over to Arthur and extended his hand. He looked at the hand before him for a second before getting up on his own and going back to his room.

"He's just a little pissed off," explained Alfred. "He'll be fine though." He added as he turned to follow his friend.

"Come on Francis, we got to get to the field," claimed his teammates. Francis gave the direction Arthur and his American friend had gone before turning back to his friends.

"You're right. Let's go."


	6. Unavoidable

**_Hey guys! Here's the next chapter!_**

**_I had fun writing it so I hope you enjoy it!_**

**_Please review :)_**

* * *

"Are you sure you still want to go?" asked Michelle shyly. Arthur stared silently at her and Alfred before sighing. They were standing in the courtyard a half hour before anger management class was about to start. After his fight with Bella, Arthur had been avoiding her, Francis, and his friends all day by hiding in his room. He could make up his work, but anger management was required.

"It's mandatory."

"Dude, I'm sure Mr. Vargas will understand if we tell him you're sick. Then we can go get some burgers and play arcade games for the rest of the day," the American smiled.

_That would be fun, _reasoned the Briton. _I guess I could miss one class...And I wouldn't have to see that French bastard! But I did bring his clothes... _He sighed.

"No guys, I have to go, but thanks."

"Are you absolutely certain?" asked Michelle, staring at him with wide eyes. She placed a gentle hand on his arm. "I'm worried about you. Would you like for me to talk to Francis?" Arthur smiled slightly as he watched Alfred shift uncomfortably behind him. _He likes her so much it's unnerving_, noticed the Brit. He looked at Michelle. _She shouldn't have to deal with my problems._

"No, it's fine. You should go to the arcade with Alfred. I'll talk to you guys later." Arthur began to walk away, when he noticed Francis staring at him from his crowd of friends not too far away. _What does he want?_ he thought as the French teen smiled slyly at him. He excused himself from the crowd and headed towards Arthur.

_Oh god, he's coming over here! Ok, okay. Be cool. Be suave! He's just a person. There's no reason to be nervous. Act natural! _

The Brit threw the clothes that were in his hands in the air and ran off to his class.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX XXXXXXXX

Arthur sat quietly at his desk fifteen minutes before the class was supposed to start. _Great job, ya dunce. Way to 'act natural'! It's not even my fault. Why did that bloody Frenchman have to start walking towards me? I didn't call him over! Does he think that just because someone was staring at him that it suggests 'come hither', because it doesn't! Besides, I wasn't staring at him, he was the one gawking at me! So why the fuck was I the one running off like an idiot? No, that didn't happen, he was the one who made an arse out of himself, not me! That is what happened, you are to spread the word! Tell all, the stupid frog ran off screaming like a girl at the sight of me, the God of blessed eyebrows, walking towards him! That is now the only history worth knowing for all eternity and it's true! _A slight knock on the door pulled the Brit from his thoughts.

"Allo?" Arthur turned to look at a confused Francis gazing into the room."What do you want? Class doesn't start for a while, don't you have a mass of followers to attend to?"

"I think they can handle one day without me," he smiled, seating himself next to the British boy. "Besides I wanted to talk to you, you've been avoiding me."

"Have I?"

"Well, you kind of ran off screaming a little while ago at the sight of me."

"You ran off screaming! A gentleman never runs away from a challenge!" Francis raised an eyebrow at him.

"You see me as a challenge?"

"A challenge to what? Why don't you try making sense?" _God, this guy is so annoying. Does he think because he has that accent, he can say whatever the fuck he wants. Well, he can't so learn English, you bastard! _

"But, _mon amour_, you said it, first."

"Will you stop doing that?!"

"What?"

"Telling me what I said! I know what I'm saying. I'm the one who says it! If I wanted a tape recorder, I would have bought one!"

"Why are you so angry?"

_Why am I so angry? WHY AM I SO ANGRY? Who the hell does this guy think he is? A psychologist? Well he's not! You need to fucking study psychology first, so ha! You aren't perfect! Take that! _

"We're in fucking anger management! I'm pretty sure my anger has been a problem before."

"Yes, but you seem to get angrier around me." Francis got up and moved closer to Arthur. "Do I make you nervous?" '_Angrier around me?' How the Hell would you know? How can you compare my actions around you to not? hmmm? Have you been spying on me? It's because of the eyebrows isn't it? I knew this day would come... _Arthur shot out of his seat.

"No!" He began to back away from the Frenchman. Francis smiled and moved closer.

"Then why are you running away."

"I'm not running away," he claimed as he ran away. They continued to move around the classroom until Francis finally cornered him at the edge of the room. It didn't seem fair to Arthur. He had to run around the room like a maniac while Francis zombie walked towards him. Basically, no matter how fast Arthur moved or thought he moved Francis would follow the the speed of a lifeguard on Baywatch, yet he'd always be right behind him. It's not even possible.

_How does beauty transcend the laws of physic? All of the sudden good looking people don't have to concede to the world's laws? Is that only for the ugly people?_

"Do you want to know what I'm thinking about?" he asked as he leaned in closer to the Briton.

"No, I don't fucking want to know what you're thinking about! I want you to move."

"Our kiss," he continued, ignoring the Brit's previous comments.

"That was nothing," he said, still trying to find a way to escape from Francis

"Oh really? Well, I usually don't just kiss," Francis explained.

"Well, I guess, I'm not your usual person."

"You most definitely are not," he agreed staring straight into his eyes. Arthur tried to ignore him but he couldn't help himself from looking back up at him. He could sense Francis leaning in closer towards him. _Oh God, what do I do? There's no place to run now. Move your bloody well toned body you jerk! I need to leave!_ He turned his head upward to tell the frog off, but the Frenchman cut him off by crashing his lips on his. This time Arthur didn't try to fight it. He quickly responded to Francis and tried to channel his own anger into something more useful. He tried to be more assertive, but Francis was really taking control over him as he started to move his hands on Arthur's body. The Brit was contemplating what to do with his own hands when he heard the classroom door slam. The two teens jumped apart to see Bella, Lovino, Antonio and Gilbert standing at the door.

"_Ma chérie, qu'est-ce que tu fais?_" Bella yell-whispered to Francis angrily, as the rest of people stood there with knowing smiles on their faces. _I could smack each and everyone of them,_ glared Arthur. _And not those fun smacks that you give a baby, I mean a smack that would make a pimp proud. _The French boy shyly combed his fingers through his hair as he turned to face his friends.

"Hey guys, I thought I said to wait outside. _Est-ce qu'il y a quelque chose j'ai dit que vous ne comprenez pas_?" He said, a little irritated.

"Yo, I tried to tell her, but I was being a little too awesome so I kind of took my eyes off her and she ran in here," admitted Gilbert.

"It doesn't matter, we weren't doing anything!" Arthur explained as he headed back to his seat.

"It sure looks like you were doing something," snickered Lovino. "And if we hadn't shown up, I"m pretty sure you wouldn't still have you pants on." Arthur tried to hide his blushing by getting angry but Lovino simply chuckled. _Who the bloody hell does he think he is? I-I would never! This git is just so...I can't...why would he? I-just-how?_

"That's big talk coming from Antonio's lackey." _No, I didn't mean that! Take it back! Take it back! _Lovino's face quickly became red, actually a dark magenta, resembling a slightly rotten tomato.

"What did you call me?"

"Well you're always with him?" For Pete's sake, stop talking. _This boy will kill you if given the chance. Hell, he doesn't even need a chance, I will be dead so shut your trap!_

"I **let** him follow me around, this tomato bastard means **nothing** to me!"

"Nothing?" questioned Antonio. "That's not what you said last night-"

"Shut up!"

"Both of you shut up!" screamed Bella. "No one gives a damn about your love-hate relationship, okay? Francis what were you doing with _him? _You're so much better than that. We're so much better." _Bitch please, if there was anyone in this room he couldn't be less into right now, it's you and that's including the desks._

"Are you really that fucking stupid? He actually likes him. Maybe because he isn't some Belgian psycho stalker bitch? Hmmm?" Lovino then leaned over to Antonio. "I swear to God it must be her time of the month."

"By that, I hope you mean her time to study," interrupted Mr. Vargas as he entered the room. "Right Lovino?"

"Fuck off!"

"Right. Well, look at this. All of you got here early, I'm so happy to see so much excitement for this class, maybe we should do a group assignment today. Bella, what are you doing here?"

"Oh! I have this class now," she explained as she got a note from her pocket.

"Really? You?"

"Yea, I know," she said innocently. "I got into one small fight, and the school got scared. They said you're taking anger management classes with that kid right there."

"Well that's not good," he studied the note. "I guess you should take a seat." She stood, watching Francis to make sure that she got a seat between him and Arthur. Arthur rolled his eyes. _Desperation never looks good on anyone, not even cheerleaders. Now me? I have this sweet eyebrow thing going for me, that just makes it look adorable. Not like Francis' though, I swear to God he perfects everything he does before going outside otherwise it just wouldn't be fair. Why can't I have him-I mean be like him? Oh God, now I'm correcting my own thoughts._ As students began to file in, everyone began to take their seats.

"Um Elizabetha, you can't have that with you," claimed Mr. Vargas as she walked in.

"Why not?" retorted the Hungarian girl.

"Frying pans aren't allowed in an anger management class, no weapons are."

"This is not a weapon, I use it to make eggs."

"I'm sure you do, but you can't have it here." Elizabetha pointed to Bella.

"If she is going to be here, then I will need protection," she explained as she kept walking to her desk.

"That's an awesome frying pan," grinned Gilbert when she sat next to him.

"I like to think so," she smiled. "I really hope I get to use it later," she continued, glancing at Bella.

"As long it's not on me," explained Gilbert. "I'm kind of too awesome for frying pans."Arthur noticed and smiled to himself. Right before class started, Alfred walked in holding Francis' clothes. Oh God, realized Arthur as he noticed his friend was walking towards him.

"Hey Artie!" he smiled, his voice booming. "I brought you Francis' clothes! You know the ones you were wearing after coming home from spending the night in his dorm! Well, you kind of dropped them when you flailed away. Michelle thought I should wait but I was thinking that he might need them." He tried to hand the clothes over to the Brit who merely sunk lower into his chair. _How can this kid be such an ignoramus?_ he thought as he realized that literally everyone was staring at him. He could feel Bella boring a hole through his skull with her glare. Mr. Vargas walked over to his desk.

"Can I help you young man? Are you a new addition to this ever expanding class?" he asked Alfred.

"No," laughed the American. "Hero's don't have problems with their anger. I was just bringing Arthur Francis' clothes since he might need them because I know that I run out of clothes pretty fast. Then I have to buy more, so actually I'm saving him money if you think about it. Pretty heroic, don't ya think?" He flashed the Roman professor a huge smile. _You blasted buffoon! The only reason you keep having to buy clothes is because you refuse to learn how to use a bloody washing machine! Obviously Francis doesn't have that problem or he wouldn't smell so good everyday! Not that I notice or care how he smells, especially when he smells like freshly baked Parisian bread...Damn bread..._

"Why didn't you simply give the clothes to Francis?" Mr. Vargas asked causing Alfred to pause.

"Well, I thought about it but I didn't want to make the situation even more awkward. Besides, I think Arthur wanted to hand them over personally. Ain't that right Artie?"

"Oh God, how I despise you," asserted the Brit as his cheeks turned a slight pink.

"You see? He's blushing already; I better go. Here are the clothes, make sure to give them to Francis," Alfred winked as he placed the clothes on Arthur's desk and headed out. He stopped at Francis' desk.

"Hey, be easy on him. You kind of make him nervous." Francis smiled at Arthur as Alfred continued his way out the door. _Me? Nervous? Who the bloody Hell does this guy think he is? That's it, friendship over. _ Bella hopped up from her desk and snatched Francis' clothes.

"Hey those are mine!" yelled Arthur. Both Bella and Francis raised their average sized eyebrows at him

"I'm sorry, were you planning on keeping them for your creepy magic ritual? I don't think that's how you make a love potion."

"I wasn't going to make anything like that-"

"What, a love powder? Or worse, were you planning on making a shrine to him with it? What next a lock of his hair? Maybe even sniffing his clothes loudly when you think you're alone, fantasizing about him?"

"Of course not! I-I-I-"

"You what?!"

"It's-You didn't let me finish! They're mine to, ummm, give back. Yeah. Alfred brought them here for me to personally give back, and that's what I plan on doing. It's the gentleman way. It's the Eyebrow Code, like the Mustache Code, but for eyebrows..."

_Did I just reveal the Eyebrow Code to them? Dammit... the elders will never believe this was an accident... Maybe they won't take it seriously... _

Arthur got up slowly from his desk and ripped the clothes from Bella's hands. He walked over to Francis as gracefully as he could muster knowing that by now the entire class was watching him. He placed the clothes down smiling, trying to be as mature as possible in his current situation.

"What's the Eyebrow Code?" asked Francis. Arthur replied by walking back to his desk and opening his notebook. He glanced at Mr. Vargas, as if signaling him to begin.

"Oh? I can start class now? Is there no more drama to be had? No more interruptions from the lovely couple in front?" he glanced around the room. "Ok then, today we're going to focus on the importance of catharsis." Arthur was trying to focus on the lesson when a note landed on his paper. He slowly opened it up and read:

_You're going out with me to a movie tonight, so look nice. You can borrow my clothes if you want. They looked nice on you, especially the skinny jeans. Although I am one to admit, that I'd prefer you with no clothes at all ;)_


	7. Can you believe this guy?

**A/N: Sorry if this chapter's kind of slow paced, it's really helping me build up to the next chapter.**

**I appreciate the reviews and PM's i've received about this fic and I hope you guys are still enjoying it.**

**Please review! They are really useful in helping figure out what is working and what isn't.**

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"Can you believe that jerk?" yelled Arthur as he rifled through his closet.

"Yea, you seem pretty angry," noticed Kiku. Arthur poked his head out of his closet to look at his roommates sitting on his bed. Kiku and Alfred looked right back at him.

"Well obviously I'm upset! He can't tell me we're are going out and just expect me to jump!"

"So you're not going?" asked Alfred slowly.

"Of course I'm going!"

"But I thought you didn't like him."

"I don't! I despise him!"

"Then why are you going?"

"Just because I hate him, doesn't mean I'm going to skip a free meal."

"Wait, that means you won't be making dinner tonight?" smiled Alfred, clearly failing at trying to look upset. Arthur slouched a little.

"Oh right, today's my turn. Do you guys mind?"

"No! Go enjoy your meal!" Alfred practically screamed. Kiku nodded.

"We'll just have to make do." The roommates grinned at each other while their roommate searched through his clothes. He pulled out a dark blue button down Polo.

"Are you sure?" he asked earnestly as he modeled the shirt. Kiku entered the closet and pulled out some black slacks to match and handed them to the Brit.

"We'll be fine," claimed Alfred. "Go enjoy your date." Arthur face began to turn a light red.

"It is not a date!"

"Right." The American rolled his eyes. "You're shirt has a spot on it." He observed as the Briton's eyes bugged out of his head as he scanned the shirt in search of the spot.

"It can't have a spot, it has to be perfect," Arthur declared, mostly to himself.

"Does it matter? I mean if it's not a date, why do you care so much?"

"I—it's-the reason being, that I am a gentleman and it is my duty to always look my best no matter where I'm going or what company I am with. Just because you don't give a rat's arse about how you look doesn't mean we should all go running around looking like slobs!"

"You don't dress up when you're hanging out with us…"

"Because it's casual, among friends."

"So what you're saying is that you and Francis are more than friends?"

"Precisely! I mean, no! We're less than friends!"

"Less than friends?"

"Enemies, nonetheless!"

"So in England, you guys get dressed up for people you love and people you hate?"

"It's the gentlemanly way," concluded Arthur as he continued to search for the spot on his shirt.

"Never mind, it must have been a mistake. The shirt is fine." Arthur glared at him, before returning to his closet to find matching shoes."Totally not a date," laughed Alfred.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

"Are you Mr. Kirkland?" asked the slightly older maître'd.

"What's it to you?"

"_Monsieur Bonnefoy_ had specific instructions to bring you to the V.I.P area."

"Well then, lead on." The man straightened his tie and lead Arthur through the restaurant. He couldn't help but notice how fancy, how beautiful, how _French_ everything was. The smell of French cuisine wafted to his nose and he knew he had made the right choice. _For food, _he qualified. _Being here with that bloody Frenchman had no effect on my decision. Why would it? I hate him!_

"Here we are." The host sat Arthur down at a small booth. "Mr. Bonnefoy called earlier and said he would be here in a minute. In the mean time would you want something to drink?"

"Yes! Well, no."

"Excuse me?"

"I want something to drink but I'm not sure if I should wait for Francis."

"Well, it is common courtesy to wait for your date."

"He's not my date!"

"Oh? Is this a group dinner?"

"No, just the two of us."

"To discuss business?"

"No, he asked me out."

"And you said no?"

"I'm here aren't I!"

"So you're here as friends?"

"He is not my friend!"

"So you're splitting the bill?"

"I didn't bring any money." The waiter raised an eyebrow.

"So he invited you here and is paying the bill?"

"Yes, honestly it isn't that complicated."

"But it's not a date?"

"Exactly!"

"OK," the older man rolled his eyes, giving up. There was no reasoning with this kid. "So about that beverage?"

"I'll order a Coke but don't bring it until Francis order's his drink." The host nodded at the strange boy's request as he walked away. Arthur sighed. _It's as if he's never seen two gentlemen not on a date before!_ He looked around at the wall decorations and tried to find England on one of the world maps on the ceiling. _Why the hell are England and France so close? I need to talk to the Queen about moving it! At least a couple of miles…_

"_Mon cher,_ you have finally arrived!" Arthur turned to see the French teen smiling as he strode over to him. His hair hung down to his shoulders and gently glided from side to side as he walked toward the Briton. His pearly white teeth shone while he smiled, a couple of women turned from their tables to inspect the Adonis entering the room. _Who walks into a restaurant looking like a supermodel? Supermodel! And you aren't one so stop it! Get back to your fucking meals ladies, there is nothing to see here!_

"I have finally arrived!" yelled Arthur, when Francis sat in his seat. "I have been waiting for like a day, where the fuck have you been?"

"You waited for me?" the French boy smiled.

"No! I just got here, but I still made it before you."

"You were worried?"

"No! In fact I ordered without you! Isn't that right?" he asked the waiter as he appeared to take Francis' order.

"_Oui monsieur_, with specific instructions to hold your order until Mr. Bonnefoy made a decision." Francis raised an eyebrow and Arthur blushed slightly.

"Whatever! Just bring me my coke!" As the waiter walked away, Francis' phone rang. He took it out of his pocket, rejected the call and placed it face down on the table. "Why didn't you answer it?"

"Why would I? The only person I want to talk to is sitting right here." Arthur tried to avoid the Frenchman's gaze and soft smile, but if he wasn't already sitting down, he probably would have melted on the spot.

"Well, that's stupid!"

"What?" Francis looked confused.

"What if it was an emergency? Huh? What if someone was dying and they needed your help? Now they are dead because you decided to be selfish. Despicable!" Arthur spat.

"I'm not really sure how we ended up here."

"We're here because you are a egotistical bastard who thinks the universe will bend to his handsome will. Well, you're not!" He slammed his hands on the table, got up and went to the men's room, mumbling about the self-absorbed Frenchman. After he entered the men's room, he realized he didn't have to used the facilities, but there was not a snowball's chance in Hell he was going to go crawling back to the table after that exit. So he sat in one of the bathroom's lounge chairs and waited. _Why hasn't he come after me yet? I knew he didn't care, he was only interested in the eyebrows! Curse these blessed arches that cause grown men to tremble with admiration! _Arthur sighed and looked around the bathroom. It was beautifully decorated with flowers and delicate wall paper that really added to the Parisian feel of the restaurant. _Why the fuck are there resting chairs in the bathroom? Do people hold meetings in here? It is so unnecessary and expensive and French. You don't see an Englishman sitting around in a bathroom. We go in, take care of business and leave, like God intended. _Arthur looked in one of the bathroom mirrors and quickly realized the irony of his previous thought. _Well, except when we're on non dates with a bloody selfish frog who thinks he's awesome just because he is. _He sighed. "What am I going to do?"

"Well, you could stop being a coward and go deal with whatever has got you locked up in here." Arthur jumped at the sound of a male voice responding to his question. He turned to see one of those bathroom attendants staring at him. He had black hair, glasses and a small freckle under the right side of his lip. He looked Austrian and he was young, about Arthur's age. In fact, the Brit could have sworn he had seen this kid at school before.

"My god, where you here the whole time?"

"Yes. Now what is your problem?"

"Why the hell would I tell you?"

"Because you obviously can't solve it on your own and I'm bored."

"Whatever." Arthur got up and began to leave when he remembered what was waiting for him on the other side of the door. He turned around.

"What would you do?" he asked the be-speckled teen. The dark haired boy smiled.

"I thought you'd never ask. What's your problem?" The Brit quickly summarized the events that led up to him hiding in a French bathroom and when he was done, the Austrian looked a little confused.

"So you're 'problem' is that this kid likes you and you like him back?" Arthur looked at him angrily.

"What are you? Deaf? I hate the slimy frog!"

"But you kissed him twice."

"He kissed me."

"You borrowed his clothes.'

"He stole mine!"

"You're on this date."

"It's not a date and there is free food."

"Free food?"

"Yes," he nodded.

"Have you eaten?" Arthur paused.

"Well...no."

"Because you're in here, mauling over your feelings for the french boy."

"What the fuck is wrong with you? There are no feelings!"

"Sure. What I suggest is that you calm down and return to your meal. Try to do so without over reacting."

"I don't over react!" he screamed.

"Listen, for whatever reason some kid likes you. Even went through the trouble of asking you out to dinner at one of the most exclusive restaurants in town. Seriously, it takes months to get a reservation, it wouldn't matter if you were Marie Antoinette. So you should go out there and enjoy your...whatever this is." Arthur sighed. The goth kid was right, he shouldn't be wasting his time being angry at Francis on an empty stomach, when he could be just as angry with food in his belly.

"Ok."  
"Good, now go enjoy your meal."

"Thanks. My name is Arthur, by the way. Arthur Kirkland." He shook the teen's hand.

"Indeed, my name is Roderick." Arthur smiled and went back to his table.

"I'm back," he announced as he sat back down. Francis raised an eyebrow at how nonchalant the Brit was being.

"Are you ready to apologize?"

"What? Fuck you!"

"Really? I thought you'd take a little longer to persuade, but your excited. I like that."

"Not like that!" Francis visibly frowned. _Don't look so damn disappointed, I'm the one really missing out here. Missing out on the food that is, by wasting time explaining this to you._

"Why are you being so mean?"

"Me? You're the one who invited me to eat at some fancy restaurant that needs like a month's notice! A month... didn't we meet about a month ago?"

"_Oui_, I remember, at the club."

"You have to make reservations with both people's names don't you?"

"Correct again."

"So you saw me and made reservations with me, knowing I would come with you even before you knew my name?"

"No, remember, I needed your name for the reservation."

"I-The-But-Wha- I'm leaving."

"What?"

"I'm leaving."

"No you're not, you're going to sit down so we can have a nice dinner together."

"You can't tell me what to do!" Because the girls in this damn place never seemed to mind their own damn business around this slime they all hoarded around Arthur and Francis. Clearly getting a life of their own was out of the question.

"Aww, don't be so mean to him," one girl pleaded.

"You don't have to take this. I would love to have dinner with you," another smiled.

"Yeah, I would love to eat with you. I'm sure we all would," a random voice chimed in.

"Don't you have dates to get back to?" Arthur asked looking around for the men these women were supposedly eating with, only to notice that they had joined the crowd, leaving them surrounded by a sea of empty tables.

"How could any one eat with such a handsome man sitting at his table sad and alone?" one man asked.

"If this guy is bothering you we have no problem getting rid of him." another stated, pointing at Arthur.

"He's the one bothering me!" Arthur protested, infuriated now.

"Shut it eyebrows, no one was talking to you." remarked a snooty girl.

"Actually, I just wanted to have dinner with him, but I guess he doesn't want that. He'd rather me waste these reservations that I worked so hard to get because I was eager about us going out," Francis sighed in such a sad tone Arthur almost cried, but didn't because he remembered his anger.

"Like hell he is!" said a muscular man standing surprisingly close to Arthur. His breath smelled of alcohol but the Brit was more focused on the tattoos of screaming faces plastered over his arms. "You better sit your ass back down punk and enjoy this man's company! You have no idea how lucky you are that an ugly son of a bitch like yourself can be out on a date with a man that handsome!" Arthur quickly sat down and scooted his chair in mumbling about how it wasn't a date. "Don't worry about how bad this night started handsome," the man said softly to Francis. " I'm sure it'll get better," the stranger continued, still glaring at the Englishman. "To make sure of it, I'll pay the bill for your date tonight."

"That's very kind of you sir, but you don't have to. It's my fault this date is going so terrible. I should've been nicer and not have made these reservations in hopes that I would get to eat here with Arthur. I guess I got my hopes up and jumped the gun without thinking about how he would feel about all of this. I'm the idiot who hoped that we could ever be together," Francis pouted. Arthur couldn't help but squirm in his seat as the audience surrounding them sighed.

"No, you were not out of line. It's just this insolent prick can't learn to be grateful. I insist you let me pay and I won't take no for an answer."

"You really are too kind. Thank you. I'll pay you back somehow."

"Just have fun." the man smiled, before glaring at Arthur. "You better make sure he has fun, or else." The Brit held his breath until the man walked back to his seat with the rest of the crowd.

"So I guess you're staying for the rest of the date?" Francis smiled.

"Yeah, but not because I want to be with you! I just can't leave because of your fucking fan club." Arthur mumbled.

"Your drink sir." the waiter said handing the angry man his beverage. "Also it would serve you well not to use that sort of language here, especially not around such a valued guest such as Francis. Now, what would you like to eat?"


	8. Where are my clothes?

**A/N: Hey guys! Sorry this took so long but my life got really hectic.**

**But I'm back and hopefully I didn't forget how to write =D**

**Please review!**

**Enjoy :)**

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"Thanks again," smiled Francis as he shook the older gentleman's hand.

"Any time," replied the tattooed man. "Guys like us, we have to look out for each other." Francis gave him a confused look. "You know, handsome?"

"Ah, right," he nodded. "Well, I better take my date home."

"Hang on to this one," the muscular man told Arthur.

"Will do," the Brit nodded fearfully. He did not want to get on this guy's bad side; Hell, he wasn't even sure if he had a good side.

"Enjoy the rest of your night," he waved to the two teens as they headed for the door. They waved back politely.

"So you had a good time?" smiled Francis as they exited the restaurant. Arthur couldn't help but smile.

"Yes," he admitted, grateful he wasn't blushing.

"With me?" he smirked. The Brit rolled his eyes.

"Yes, with you. Turns out you are not completely the moronic pervert I thought you were."

"Good," the teen smiled. "So, your place or mine?"

"What?"

"Your place or mine?" he asked a little louder.

"For what?" he asked, furrowing his glorious eyebrows together.

"Sex," Francis said the word so certainly; it caused Arthur to blush.

"I'm not having sex with you."

"What?" he asked; now it was his turn to be confused. "_Mon amour_, why not? You want to, I want to, and you're still conscious, that is literally the most consent I have ever gotten."

"Who said I want to?"

"Well, you may have not said it verbally, but you are practically begging with your eyes."

"The only thing my eyes are begging for is for you to jump off a cliff."

"Into a lake? _Honhonhon_, you want to go skinny dipping? A way to work of the carbs and to get better acquainted physically-brilliant idea." Francis snapped his fingers. "I know just the place!" He grabbed Arthur's hand and led him to a lake nearby. Too distracted by the warmth and sensation of the French teen's fingers interlocked with his, the Brit forgot to struggle until they finally reached the water. Francis wasted no time at all undressing himself and it wasn't until he began to remove his boxers that Arthur woke up from his daze.

"What the bloody hell are you doing?"

Francis looked up at him confused.

"Oh, where are my manners? Do you need help?" He walked up and began to unbutton the Englishman's shirt.

"What are you doing?! He yelled again, but happened not to move.

"No it is okay, I don't mind," claimed Francis as he undid the last button to reveal a t-shirt. "Who wears a t-shirt under a polo?"

"Someone who doesn't want to get fucking raped by a frog!" yelled Arthur as he finally moved back.

"But this was your idea."

"No, you just hear whatever you want to hear." Francis looked at him and sighed.

"That's enough." The other boy looked at him confused.

"Enough of what?"

"Enough of this, enough of you, enough of..." he sighed. "Not that I don't like the chase, but you seem to be in complete denial about anything going on between us."

"That's because there is nothing going on between us," he gestured in between the two for emphasis.

"And I'm starting to believe that," he replied quietly. Arthur froze.

"Well then, good," he hesitated. "So I guess we should be going now." Francis turned to look away from him.

"Um no, you can go. I think I'm going for a swim."

"I can't leave you here on your own." Francis turned to look him directly in the eyes.

"Why not?"

"Uh, well. It's not—I can't—it wouldn't be the gentlemanly thing to do."

"Right." Francis rolled his eyes. "You wouldn't want to ruin your precious Eyebrow code," he continued sarcastically. _Damn! I thought he had forgotten about that. If the elders find out, I may lose my license, or worse, my eyebrows._

"Right," he muttered. "So let's go." Francis slowly removed his boxer shorts and Arthur failed terribly at trying to look unaffected. The teen then dove into the water.

"If you want me," he began. "Then you'd better come get me," he declared as he began to swim deeper into the lake. Arthur simply stood there.

_What should I do? I can't bloody leave him, what if something happens? I don't know what I'd do. And I can see the headlines now, 'Angelic French teen drowns while Eyebrowed Englishman stands uselessly on the shore'. How would I explain this to Michelle? She would hate me…_

He finally sighed and began to remove his clothes, save for his boxers.

_Francis may be nonchalant about this kind of stuff, but I have dignity!_

Arthur thought to himself before he looked down at his Pokemon shorts.

_I really have to stop accepting these gifts from Kiku, but these Togepis are so darn cute!_

He slowly placed his body in the freezing water.

_How the hell did that frog just dive in? This water must be subzero, or is that another law of science that only applies to ugly people?_

When his body finally adjusted to the water, he began to swim out into the dark lake.

"Francis? Stop joking around, I am not going to die of hypothermia for you, so get out here!" The silence sent shivers up his spine. The moon shone brightly that night and the lake should have been easy to see but the trees and their vines casted shadows down onto the water. "Fr-Francis?" he stuttered. He heard the call of owls and the soft buzzing of night crawlers moving on the trees above. He felt the water move below his feet and suddenly realized how terrified he was.

He floated in the water, momentarily whipping his head back and forth so avidly Willow Smith would have been proud. Then he felt it. Something touched his legs. Arthur was too paralyzed with fear to do anything reasonable, not even trying to get away. Then whatever touched him was gone, hopefully for good. However, life is never fair. No, Arthur's life was saved at a price. His boxers were gone.

"Where the fuck are you frog?!" Arthur yelled more out of desperation than anger.

"_Je suis la mon cher. Viens ici._" The English teen turned and to his surprise saw a scene that looked like it came out of either a romantic movie or a porno, either way, it wasn't helping. Francis was siting the the grass, body shimmering the moonlight like he was Edward Cullen save for a few exceptions. His skin was tanned nicely, he looked handsome, and he wasn't some pointless vampire made up by some sex crazed author who had way too much time on her hands.

Only Americans would watch a movie that pointless and then insist on talking about it to their friends. God, I miss England.

Arthur was pulled away from the rant he was about to go through in his mind by watching Francis smile at him. The French teen was completely naked save for the short white towel around his waist. His body was glistening as the moonlight reflected the drops of water that looked practically poised on his skin. The towel was placed right under his toned abs.

_Wait... Where did he get that towel? Oh God no, he planned this entire thing, didn't he? He acted like he had given up his futile attempts to sleep with me, made me feel sorry for him, forced me to watch his sexy ass jump into the water that was fucking cold as Hell by the way, swam away, only causing me to have to save him, which was his plan! He then saw the terrified me and took advantage of the situation, stealing my boxers and heading back to shore, where he removed his towel from it's hiding space. The sexy scoundrel! He...how could he even...skinny dipping was my idea, well not my idea but the way..._

Arthur simply bowed his head.

_How am I going to get out of this situation?_

As if reading his mind, Francis pulled out another towel from practically thin air and held it in his hands as he flashed the Englishman a perfectly white smile. He held out the towel as if he was waiting for Arthur to come and grab it. He was holding it near the edge of the water, just far enough that would force the Brit to walk up onto the shore to retrieve it.

_I could either walk up onto that shore, uninhibited or stay in the water until he leaves._

He could feel Francis' eyes searching him, as if the French teen was wondering if he would actually get out of the water. Arthur contemplated this for a while, the frigidness of the lake was causing him to shiver. Francis looked at ease on his spot on the shore, as if he would simply wait until the Englishman decided to give up or die. The way Arthur was acting, he thought it might be the latter.

"Francis! _Je t'ai trouvé!_ I was so worried," claimed Bella as she materialized behind him. Even though the French boy almost had a heart attack at the sight of this girl appearing out of nowhere, Arthur had never been so happy to see her.

"What are you doing here?" Francis asked angrily, though his voice still made it sound majestic.

"I was worried about you," she pouted. "Out here, all alone, with that kid," she pointed at Arthur. "But it doesn't matter, we're together now." She hugged him. Even in the water, Arthur managed to roll his eyes.

"Alright, I guess we should be going now. C'mon Arthur," said Francis as he and Bella gathered up their belongings. The English boy glared at him.

"You know I bloody well can't do that."

"Why not?" asked Bella.

"He stole my boxers," he explained through gritted teeth.

"Why do you lie? Francis doesn't steal anything," she claimed indignantly._ Of all the people to be out here with, I get trapped with a pervert and his delusional lackey,_ thought Arthur.

"No, it's okay," explained Francis. "Arthur is just confused about somethings so he lashes out at me," he told Bella. "I will always be here for you,_ mon ami_!"

"Will you shut up and give me a towel?" Arthur yelled back.

"Do you want this one?" asked Francis, gesturing to the one sitting comfortably around his waist.

"But mon amour, what will you wear?"

"Don't worry, ma cherie, I am nowhere near as self conscious as our friend over there," he claimed as he tore the towel of his thighs and threw it to Arthur. He got out of the water and wrapped himself but then couldn't allow his eyes to glance over at Francis. Bella was also a bit anxious and found another towel among Francis' belongings and handed them to him. The French boy sighed but complied and covered himself. Before they headed back to their rooms, Arthur looked around.

"Where are my clothes?" he asked.

"I believe we have the honor of viewing a full moon tonight, romantic, huh?" asked Francis, clearly ignoring the Brit's question.

"Where are my clothes?" he asked a little louder, trying not to flip out in the middle of the night wearing nothing but a towel.

_Why the fuck did I even come on this stupid date? I knew it would end like this! Well, not like this but with Francis doing something weird and me being pissed off. I swear to god the only thing he has done since we first met is aggravate me!_

"They're right where you left them," Francis replied simply. Arthur looked around on the ground, nothing. Not even a sock.

"I don't see them anywhere."

"Ah well," shrugged Francis. "_C'est la vie._ Come on let's go, we wouldn't want you to catch a chill." The French boy glanced at Arthur seductively and then began to walk back to his room. The Brit had no choice but to oblige, but it didn't stop him from glaring at the back of Francis' sexy head.

_I bet that's it,_ Arthur thought. _You want me to get sick, that's why you had be dive into the that blasted water. When I'm weak I wont be able to fight you off._ Arthur tried to warm up his shoulders with his hands. _Well too bad! Your plan didn't work pal!_ Francis turned around so quickly that Arthur was afraid that he might have heard his thoughts. A look of sympathy was on the Frenchman's face.

"_Mon amour_, are you cold?" he asked.

"N-n-n-no," the Brit chattered back. Francis smiled and searched through his bag that Bella was carrying. He pulled out a varsity jacket and walked back over to Arthur and encouraged him to put it on but the Englishman refused.

"Look, you're no good to me dead, now put on the jacket," demanded Francis. Arthur did as he was told. They walked back to their rooms and Francis stood next to Arthur the entire time. The Brit couldn't help but grin at the jealousy Bella was displaying. When they reached Arthur's building, Francis encouraged Bella to go home, he'd pick up his bag tomorrow. The Belgian girl nodded and walked off but Arthur saw her pause a couple of yards away, surveying them.

"So, I guess this is goodnight," claimed Francis as he stepped towards Arthur. The Brit nodded, trying to remain unhinged as the Frenchman moved his body closer.

"Do you want your jacket back?"

"No, it suits you." By now, Arthur was gazing into Francis' deep blue eyes. He cursed inwardly as he felt his knees go weak. He tried to stay strong but he failed miserably as he felt Francis' warm breath on his cold skin.

"Thanks, good night." Arthur thrust his hand forward to shake hands. Francis looked as if he tried to fire a cannon.

"What is this?" he asked staring at Arthur's hand.

"This is how we say goodnight in England."

"Really?" asked Francis, skeptically.

"Yes," Arthur lied. Francis shrugged, smiled, and shook his head as he took the Englishman's hand. _How the hell are his hands so warm?_ Arthur tried to be angry but the sensation of Francis' warm palm was melting away his bitterness. He didn't even fight when Francis pulled him in closer and gently kissed him on the lips. It was a quick kiss, but that didn't stop Arthur from indulging in the moment, though he tried his best to look inhibited-another task he failed at.

"That's how I say good night," smiled the Frenchman seductively. Arthur simply nodded but he did his best to look angry. Bella coughed loudly from behind them and Francis rolled his eyes.

"Come on Bella, let's go," he said as he walked past her and headed to his dorm. She was quick to follow. England watched as they left and then went inside. That's when he noticed how cold he was.

Why is it so cold in here? Arthur glanced downwards and a sudden thought popped into his mind.

"What the fuck did that Frenchman do with my clothes?"

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**A/N: So what did you guys think? Please review and thanks for reading!**


	9. The Fight

_**Hello people~**_

_**This story is back!...sort of.**_

_**I posted this so I could feel encouraged to write a couple more chapters! **_

_**However, I'm not completely satisfied with it :/**_

_**I really want to finish what I start, so I'm probably going to be ending this story soon unless I can come up with more ideas...**_

_**Please review!**_

_**Enjoy.**_

* * *

Arthur felt like crap. He hadn't slept a wink last night because every time he closed his eyes a certain French boy would materialize in front of him. The Brit was afraid to blink. Arthur understood the concept of a crush but the way Francis invaded his mind all the time, scared him. _The git's like a fucking tumor, he just gets in your mind and stays there! I sure as Hell didn't invite him! He's basically trespassing but the bongos won't do anything about it because, apparently, 'it's not a real crime'. Lazy bastards. _The Englishman glanced at his watch and realized that he better get going. Anger Management class was going to start soon. As he walked across campus, Arthur fought to keep his eyes open, but with each passing step his eyelids felt heavier and heavier. He even had to stop walking for a minute to participate in a full body yawn that forced him to stretch his arms and straighten his back. _It's going to be tough staying awake in class, _he realized. _I just hope if I do fall asleep no one wakes me up because then shit will go down_ _and I don't want to give Mr. Vargas anymore reasons to assign me more classes._

The Englishman took a detour to class to rinse his face off in the bathroom, hoping the cold water would shock him awake. When he realized that he was just making a weirdo out of himself in the school bathroom, he dried off and headed to class. On his way he saw Francis and his soccer playing friends, hanging out near the entrance of the building._ Aren't these guys ever doing anything? This isn't some bloody teen movie where all the hot people do is stand around and smile, go read a book goddammit! And why are they in their soccer uniforms all the time? There isn't even a game today! It's like they're trying to annoy me. Go get some new clothes, you lazy asses! _Arthur scowled at the group as he walked by when he noticed something. Francis was standing awfully close to a brunette boy with a cat in his hand. He looked a little Greek and it was easy to tell that he was far more interested in his pet than in the French teen but he continued to smile and hold a conversation and that was enough for Francis. Arthur's eye twitched involuntarily.

_What the Hell is that bloody wanker doing? He can't be flirting, no, he can't be. Why would he flirt with that hippie rather than me? I mean I'm standing right here! Oh, I see his game, the bloody git wants me to get jealous! Well, ha! That's not going to happen you fucking frog, so go ahead. Keep flirting! I don't give a damn! I'm going to class..._The English boy tried to leave but his eyes were locked on the flirty French boy. He could feel anger welling up inside him as Francis laughed and gently rubbed the cat behind the ears, while grinning at the Grecian. _Well, don't they look so fucking chummy? Bet they wouldn't be so friendly if that Greek git knew that Francis is mine!-whoa, not mine. That's not what I meant...I mean that, he's not the thing that... Stop getting on my case, stupid brain, I'm angry!_ Arthur sauntered over to Francis glaring, but the French boy couldn't have looked happier to see him.

"Ah _mon amour_, how are you?" he smiled, grasping the Brit's arms and kissing him on both cheeks, so Arthur slapped him across the face.

"What the fuck are you doing?" he demanded. Francis' hand was already on his face, trying to cool down the burning area on his cheek.

"What was that for?"

"You're the one who was trying to rape me!"

"I was just saying hello, you idiot. That's how we salute people in my country!" Francis explained, irritated.

"Well, it's stupid," the Brit replied, a little taken back by the French boy's irritation. He hadn't expected for him to get upset.

"What do you want Arthur?" Francis sighed. That's when the English boy realized everyone was looking at him.

"Um, well you, and the cat, it's just, I, never mind," he fumbled, trying to back out of the situation.

"Aw, your boyfriend's jealous," the Greek boy smiled. lazily. Arthur quickly glared at him, even the boy's cat seemed to be mocking the Brit.

"I'm British, I don't get jealous," Arthur retorted.

"Yea right, asshole," snickered Lovino. "We saw you watching Francis for like twenty minutes now."

"Shut up!"

"Wait," Gilbert laughed. "You didn't deny being Francis' boyfriend," he realized. Arthur could feel his face getting warm.

"That's because it was so utterly ridiculous I didn't believe it merited a response," the English boy claimed. The soccer players surrounding him, chuckled, it was obvious to see the Brit was flustered.

"Come on guys, _arrete_. Leave him alone," Francis said calmly.

"I don't need you to protect me," Arthur snapped at the French boy. "I can handle myself!" Francis studied the Brit for a moment and shook his head as he sighed.

"I'm sure you can," he responded, rolling his eyes. "I just don't want to be late for class. Anger Management is growing to be _a complete waste time_," he claimed as he looked the Brit directly in the eyes with his last couple of words. Arthur was a little taken back by this comment and stood there silently as the soccer players disappeared around his as he headed to class. _He's got to be talking about the class, right? I mean, I hate it too. That's got to be it, _he assured himself but he couldn't help but feel a little anxious as he walked into the classroom. _It doesn't matter, I can't let that French bastard get to me. _Arthur's heart missed a beat when he realized Francis wasn't sitting in his usual seat up front, but with his buddies in the back. When he quickly glanced at the Frog, he was laughing with his friends but Arthur could see that he was keeping his eye on him, watching to see how he'd react. _I'm not, _the Brit decided, as he sat down, determined not to look at Francis. _I don't give a damn if he wants to sit next to me, I can focus much better this way. I'm glad he moved. _

"Welcome back," smiled Mr. Vargas. He looked around his classroom and the students looked a lot less aggravated then they were originally. Especially the sexually frustrated English boy that sat in the front. Well, he wasn't less angry rather, his anger appeared to be more concentrated on a certain Francis, causing his anger towards other things just started to fizzle out. "It's great to see you guys, for some reason I feel like I haven't seen you in a long time."

Arthur sat in his desk and rolled his eyes at his cheery professor. _Actually he's not really a professor since I've learned absolutely nothing from him. He just keeps us here, trapped like animals until that infernal bell rings. Oh god, he's talking to me! What did he say? Why is he just standing there, I better say something!_

"Sure," Arthur shrugged. Mr. Vargas looked at him for a minute and the Brit wouldn't have minded if he hadn't noticed that the rest of the class was now looking at him as well. "What?"

"I asked why you aren't sitting with _Senior_ Francis? Are you two having a lovers' quarrel?" he asked, brown eyes highlighted with concern.

"Funny."

"What's so funny about it?" the older Italian asked.

"The idea that Francis and I are lovers."

"Isn't that why you're always looking at him?"

"I... Those are glares. I don't like him!"

"Really?" Francis interrupted. A moderate silence fell on the room as the students stopped talking to watch the French teen speak.

"Yes, really! I bloody hate you, you git!" Arthur turned to face the Frog.

"Hate? You hate me?"

"That's what I said, isn't it?"

"Hate?" Francis repeated slowly. "That's what you're calling it?"

"That's what it is!"

"So you make out with people you _hate_? Go on dates with people you _hate_?Get jealous of people you _hate_?" Francis asked, getting angrier with each passing question.

"No, I'm not a slut like you. I was forced into all those things!"

"Alright, that's it," Francis claimed, rising from his seat. "Mr. Vargas, can Arthur and I have a minute?"

"Um, sure. Go ahead and step outside," the Roman nodded. The French boy smiled kindly at the teacher before glaring at the Brit. "Let's go." _Shit, he looks like he wants to murder me..._Arthur sunk lower into his seat.

"I'm not going anywhere, I don't want to miss the lesson," he said, unconvincingly. Everyone looked at him, but he kept his eyes steadfast on the front of the room. Francis could see that the English boy was being even more stubborn, so he glanced at Gilbert who got the message.

"Hey, Mr. V, you wanna know what would be awesome?" the albino grinned, getting out of seat. "Class outside, on the soccer field, let's go," he finished, leading everyone out the door.

"I don't think that's allowed," the teacher claimed, furrowing his eyebrows as his class filed out of the room.

"I won't tell if you don't," Gilbert winked, high fiving Antonio as he passed him.

"Well, I suppose, the fresh air can be calming and we can practice some breathing exercises that help reduce frustration," he realized.

"Yea, that's all wonderful, let's go!" The teacher smiled and headed for the door, with Arthur trying to stay close behind him but before he could exit the albino stopped him.

"Sorry cupcake, my buddy wants to talk to you and it wouldn't be very awesome of me to let you go," Gilbert smiled before he shut the door in the Brit's face. Arthur slowly turned to face Francis, who in the vaguest sense, did not look happy. _Oh God, he's going to kill me and he's going to have that bloody albino cover for him. No one will ever know I'm gone, except maybe Alfred and Mattie. I can't die now, what will become of my eyebrows? There's no way this Frog will find them a good home, I just know they'll end up wandering the city, alone and cold...I can't let that happen!_

"Listen here, you Frog," Arthur began.

"No, you listen," Francis said sternly. "What is wrong with you?"

"I-I don't know what you mean."

"You like me, you hate me, you want nothing to do with me, you get jealous, then you snap at me for trying to help you? I've dated my share of psychos, but at least I was sleeping with them. I don't think I can handle all your crazy," the French boy admitted.

"That's all you fucking care about isn't it? Sex? Well, you aren't going to get it from me, so stop trying!"

"Is that what you think? _Mon cher_, while I do enjoy getting physical, that's not why I talk to you. That's not why I like you."

"Oh, please, don't give me all that 'you're special' or 'you're the one' crap. I know as soon as I do anything with you, you'll just leave."

"Well, isn't that what you want? Me, out of your life?" asked Francis gently, moving closer to Arthur.

"I-yes, but not like that!"  
"You see, I don't believe you," the blond smirked. "I think you're having a really hard time, dealing with how you feel about me, your _real _feelings," Arthur stepped back. _How I feel about you? I feel nothing! I'm more in love with a rock! If that rock had blond hair and deep blue eyes, that seemed to go on forever. No Arthur! You promised you wouldn't do this, not again. The bastard doesn't care about you, move on!_

"Yes, you're right. I'm having a really hard time dealing with how I feel about you. I don't know how to control my emotions," the English boy admitted. Francis stepped closer slightly but Arthur wasn't done. "ALL THIS HATE IF FEEL FOR YOU JUST HAS ME BURSTING AT THE SEAMS!"

The blond moved back, visibly hurt by the Brtion's words. "Why do you say things like that?"

"Because that's what I mean!"

"Really?" Francis asked. "Because I can't take anymore of this bullshit. If you really still despise me so much. I'll go. We won't have to see each other around school, I'll be with my friends and you'll be with yours and we go on for the rest of the school year, just ignoring each other." Arthur stood still, contemplating the Frog's words. _I don't want you to go, _he decided. _But you'll leave anyway...I guess earlier is better than later._

"Alright," the Brit nodded. "Then, I guess you should go."

"Is that what you want?" Francis asked sternly.

"It's what you want," the Brit replied quietly.

"_Mon Dieu_ Arthur, you don't even... ugh. I can't take this anymore. I literally, can not take, anymore of your bullshit. _Au Revoir_." Arthur watched as the French teen exited the room, as Francis refused to look at him. The simple sound of the door shutting echoed loudly through classroom, reverberating through Arthur's ears, then soon the Brit was surrounded, by complete, and utter, silence.

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_**A/N: So what did you think? I love to hear what you guys think about this story, so please review :)**_

_**Thanks for reading!**_


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